what i am doing. mostly,
i smile
and smile and
smile, until there is nothing
but that, and the washer
stops washing and the
ninety minute wait finishes and the dryer
is done.
he picks up his hat but
does not put it on.
i stare at the thin layer of dust
on the dictionary in the corner and wonder
why we forget things. i stare
for a long time but no answer is given,
not in my million thoughts, except that
my face is sore, and he
has left the room,
but the hat is still here
on the kitchen table next to
a dusty dictionary and a broken screen door.