There’s No Reason To Clean My Kitchen

I want my kitchen to be dirty

when civilization ends, or, when

my life ends, whichever comes

first, although, I bet the odds 

are even.

It’s a beautiful human repellant,

made for those whose noses

stick too high above their upper

lips.

Maybe it’s an excuse because I

don’t care because I’m a drunk….

Maybe it’s part of my Jackson

Pollock outlook, so very, very…

Maybe it’s the only way I can

still rebel.

Certainly not a way to impress,

but, do I want to impress?

Certainly not.