ODE TO THE WASHCLOTHhow sensibleand modest, tooa terry sq...

ODE TO THE WASHCLOTHhow sensible
and modest, too
a terry square
a job to doyou scrub my neck
my back, my rear
the sweaty trench
behind my earI need you now
as I did then
when I was new
or five or tenbut you at last
are out of style
like Lux and Dove
and Zest and Dialmy hotel thinks
as people do
that no one needs
the likes of youthat soap on skin
will do the trick
but grease on grease
is way too slickI’d rather scrub
but just so much
a loofah’s stiff
and lacks the touchand natural sponge
is full of grace
but oddly round
for my flat faceoh, washcloth, you
are not the rage
but I still choose
to act my ageI may be one
Jurassic jerk
but I still love
old things that work.