The Folding Lady

The Folding Lady

Remember: to double up and gather it all together.
Then knot, the dual thick black plastic bag.
So turn up and overlap those paragon pleats,
another puny crease on an ironed shirt sleeve.

Sponge down those soiled and soaking plates,
the residue of life's remaining fragments.
An oath, a suburban vow, now disappoints,
As the narrative becomes an evening menu.

The dream of a perfect life now dwindles,
as lack of meaning starts to fill out.
As she deforms, the daily loop twists.
Discovering the meaning of being through,
arch, angles, and asanas.

Filling the void with arm twisting and force.
Submerging the little hope into a pipe dream.
From a pail, she wipes her daily intentions.
As life is not something to badger.