Rather than cross out fait accompli
items on your To Do List
with inky Bic or black magic
that invariably bleeds through
to the next page and makes it look
even more thick and threatening
than the original commands,
why not make them disappear?
What you do is buy a little bottle
of super-white, super-smooth
cleanup fluid, the goop that promises
to make all the corrections you need.
Unscrew the top and start painting over
assignments you’ve hated for months,
names that gave you heartburn.
Slather gobs on ex-dastardly deeds.
You slap the white stuff on everything
you’re done with, or want to be.
Make white clouds all over the page,
covering bills you’ve decided not to pay,
R.S.V.P.s you won’t respond to.
Pretty soon, white to the knuckles,
you’re loving the absence of
demanding things and people.
Eradication empowers. Your mood
lightens and pressure drops as you
whiten up. You’re the artist,
adding white space; the domestic
engineer, uncluttering closets. Or, like me,
you’re Lady Macbeth, “Out, out...”
removing those treacherous spots
till there’s nothing left but white on white.
from Carquinez Poetry Review