meditations on polyester fiber

o, soft as astroturf beneath my toes
i'd like to know where the softness goes
is it swept away in the rush of feet
or deposited via cat-parcel so neat?

when does malleable concrete emerge from plush,
the seemingly indestructible foot-cradling lush
of fibers woven like a beige throw of grass
capable of cradling both heel and ass--

can it be proven, that optimum time
when everything falls away from sublime
and becomes spotty, blotched and stained
over and over and over and once more again?

i suppose it's just fate. the way you rake leaves.
the way farmers bushel autumn barley in sheaves.
so seasons, they pass, and i hope beyond hope
that the steam cleaner will create miracles with soap.

***

darin and cathy were kind enough to offer use of their really nifty steam cleaner so that i could steam clean the carpets tomorrow. it's not that i figure it'll last a long time; not by a long shot. i'm certain that just like washing your car brings certain rain showers, cleaning my carpet will mean that the cats will find new levels of regurgitation, never before seen in the feline realm.

anyway, i'll be glad when it's done. tomorrow is my day off for the month, and i'm looking forward to it. i do realize that this steam cleaning is going to take longer than i figure. most things happen that way when your mind skips around like mine does--time folds in on itself. i am a black hole in motion.

so yeah. that's my Big Day Off. i know, keep the excitement to yourself. (; i also need to run some errands, so i'm hoping to get on the bandwagon early and get this done so that i can move on from cleaning the house and into something else.

like ironing.

i suddenly feel like i'm channelling doris day. *sigh* must be middle age, settling in for the long haul.