January 2017
Lisa Wiley
wileymoz@yahoo.com
wileymoz@yahoo.com
I studied with Billy Collins July 2013 in the Southampton Writers Conference on Long Island. I live with my husband, three children and two orange cats in Buffalo, NY where I teach creative writing and composition at Erie Community College. When I'm not running, I'm writing. My two chapbooks include My Daughter Wears Her Evil Eye to School (The Writer's Den, 2015) and Chamber Music (Finishing Line Press, 2013).
Clean
I want you to be clean
like the polished smooth rocks
you skipped across the creek as a child.
Clean like the downy towels
you draped over your grandmother’s clothesline
secured with wooden clothespins,
soft clouds drifting back and forth
you ran through, chasing
your brothers and sisters.
Clean like a squeaky, Windexed mirror
in morning sun, you don’t mind examining
every detail of your face in,
after you wash the sleep off
then refocus
to slick back your hair.
You have to want this clean,
believe this clean,
pray this clean
on that lucky coin
in your pocket
every shiny, solitary day.
Clean
I want you to be clean
like the polished smooth rocks
you skipped across the creek as a child.
Clean like the downy towels
you draped over your grandmother’s clothesline
secured with wooden clothespins,
soft clouds drifting back and forth
you ran through, chasing
your brothers and sisters.
Clean like a squeaky, Windexed mirror
in morning sun, you don’t mind examining
every detail of your face in,
after you wash the sleep off
then refocus
to slick back your hair.
You have to want this clean,
believe this clean,
pray this clean
on that lucky coin
in your pocket
every shiny, solitary day.
©2016 Lisa Wiley
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