CHICAGO 1947

A WOMAN AND HER BATHTIME BLUES.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The whole office stinks
Of humanity
And the great unwashed

 

As your father would say,
Although you suspect
Most of the other

 

Girls in the office
Wash daily and do
Their hair and file their

 

Nails and have their love
Affairs or secret
Romances or are

 

Married to boring
Husbands who expect
Their loving wives to

 

Be there for them when
They get home from their
Offices. But all

 

You want when you get
Home is to strip off
And bath and wash off

 

The odour of the
Office from your hair
And skin and lay back

 

With your head on the
Back of the bath and
Look up at the sky

 

Light window with a
Cigarette between
Lips watching the smoke

 

Rise, attempting to
Forget the girls and
Men and the boss with

 

His overbearing
Manner and his wet
Sweaty brow and that

 

Underarm odour,
Especially when
He leant over you

 

And pointed out things
You were typing for
Him and you had to

 

Turn your head away
And gasp for air and
As you recline there

 

In your bathroom you
Remember that, the
Smell, the sweat stains on

 

His shirt and the way
His nose twitched and the
Dark hairs that were there

 

As you looked up and
Holding back a laugh
You close your eyes and

 

Draw hard on the lit
Cigarette in your
Hot bath trying to
Unwind and forget.

Reviews

[just rose.]

Well, they don't say that scent is the fastest road to memory for nothing. Some of the characters in this ooze with ick, and I love the purifying ablution of the heroine at the end.