Living Pro Prose
On a day where there are dirty dishes sitting in my sink, not many, but a few
and the dishwasher is sitting full of clean dishes
in need of being put back onto shelves,
on a day where there is dirty laundry crumpled in small bundles
sitting in a clothes hamper with little stains and odd smells
that are blended from food, pets and perfume
I ignore them all to spend time gestating in my own imagination
far away from such trivial things.
Yes, I know there are small coffee stains painted on the counter tops in my kitchen
some in circles, some in half parenthesis, some splotchy, some small spots,
right next to fresh bread crumbs haphazardly scattered about
while I pretend that they’re not there,
in order to spend time pilfering small anecdotes of word phrases
from ideas that have gathered around
that I wish I could place into something written for as it is
all the while knowing that the floor needs to be swept and the ceiling fans dusted
especially on a day where the carpets need vacuumed
and the rugs need a washing, the trash bins need emptying, the sinks need to be wiped
but I am in no such mood at the moment to do so
for I am busy with something much larger, more anomalous,
that has taken control for the moment preventing me from such tasks.
On a day where the sun is standing high in the sky,
not a cloud one to darken its radiant light,
on a day where the temperature is testifying that indeed springtime has arrived
as bird, bee and worm works diligently in my small garden of flowers
heartily feasting themselves, yet pollinating for me,
as winds breathe new life into the trees that surround them,
playing their leaves, limbs and needles as instruments with strings
in a symphony unlike all others, sounding of light applause
or slight paddling from rain.
Yes I know I have weeds to pull, and two dogs that need a bath
but all of that seems too tedious right now
because I’ve been set upon by poetic whims
that beg for my attention with tantalizing words, nothing new of course,
unless I consider them in a newness for myself
that replaces such drab moments like scrubbing a toilet
or fluffing couch cushions, or folding couch blankets and putting away my shoes.
On a day where I’d rather be writing something from the infancy of my imagination
than I would be wiping down door knobs or table tops or cleaning out the refrigerator.
Jade Dane Jaspers
