by J.P. Celia

Wash the counters. Wash the floors.
Wash the china on display.
Wash the TVs and the doors;
Focus on the knobs, OK?

Wash the infant. Wash the cat.
Wash the spouses, her or him.
Dunk the in-laws in a vat
Filled with caustic to the brim.

Wash your liver and your spleen.
Wash your innards; wash them all.
Rub each molecule and gene
With a squirt of ethanol.

Wash the scummy garden pond.
Wash the forest’s buggy face.
Wash the cloudlets and beyond.
Scrub the oil spill of space.

Wash your laughter. If you weep,
Disinfect each liquid jewel.
Wash your eyelids if you sleep.
Dreams are dirty. So is drool.

Wash these stanzas. Do it quick.
Verse is viral, bad or good.
Poems sicken and make sick.
God, I hope you’ve understood.