Domesticity – Bram Riddlebarger

When my family dies,
and goes to hell,
everything will seem fine,
at first.

They will
go about their lives,
yelling, screaming, making toast,
and eating whipping cream.

They will watch TV in the morning,
if they can,
and they will watch TV
at night, too.

But then sometime they will feel
that pressure.
A need.
They will need to go to the bathroom.

But this is hell.
There will only be two sheets
of toilet paper left
on the cardboard toilet paper sheet roll.

And then there will not be any.
There will not be any extra
backup rolls of toilet paper
underneath the sink,

back behind the diaper-filled trash can
and beside the orange-scented, pumice hand-cleaner.
There will never be any more toilet paper,
just almost gone toilet paper.

And, being hell,
it will always be like this.
They will leave the bathroom
and return to their yelling,

and uncomfortable butt-itching,
and making of toast,
and eating of whipping cream,
but they will forget about the need

to procure more toilet paper.
Their lives will be empty
cardboard toilet paper rolls,
which can never be filled.


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Image: congerdesign via Pixabay 



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