guest curator
Misha Green
A porcelain sink, glistening white Stainless steal faucets, reflecting my image Crystal clear water, flowing with joy Lathers of soapy suds, washing over grim And still it clings to me, unmoving, unchanged, unwithered Mocking me with it's monotone glare Reminding me that the past is forever And forever is fate And that I can wash and scrub and clean for eternity Trying to erase the lurid details of the past But yesterday, today, and tomorrow it remains the same A permanent residue on unclean hands
