It’s noon and eggshells are scattered about
the sink. I haven’t cleaned a pan in days.

I can’t think of a good reason to sweep the floors.
I won’t see him until he is drunk and pleased.

I envy shared glee for gardenias, like finding
a missing earring in the wash.

I lie in bed smoking, watching
a finch go to and fro her nest.

I want to sleep in. But, I have the afternoon
to fill the ashtray.

Aaron Dargis grew up in Michigan and now lives in the Piedmont area of South Carolina. He is currently enrolled the Low Residency MFA program at Converse College. He is Poetry Co-Editor for South85 Magazine.