Powder Room Theory

Sydney Holley

I have encountered these devils behind

Ragged, shabby bathroom entryways

These corroded knobs aren’t compatible

enough with the frame to properly latch;

Nothing could ever match

This God forsaken wallpaper or the

Dehydrated plaster, sun-baked kidneys

A poor pay stub here and there

This is where we purify-they purify. I am not

capable of such things, in the midst of June,

the tar just now starting to gleam

Tattered mirrors dictating

“Polish it off, then observe.”

Botched with filthy residue

The looking glass as laced with

Contaminants as the last batch

And the one before that

As quickly as I plummet, the

Earthly planes consume

my white tennis shoes but it’s

Unmatched by this water weight

I dive in feet first and consequently

land somewhere else

I didn’t think these were supposed to be blue

Twitching and itching with rapture

I bid the adieu from the powder room

Tattered mirrors dictating us to purify,

Purify, observe