sometimes a bar of soap just doesn't feel like a bar of soap
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Written by Courtney Campbell
Photo by Sheilagh O'Leary
sometimes a bar of soap just doesn't feel like a bar of soap
or a knife like it can do much more cutting sometimes a toilet brush stares at the ceramic wondering what it ever did to get there
an overgrown toothbrush a glorified cotton swab a pointless never-ending crappy dead end job
sometimes a clipper doesn't recognize nails a towel feels moist a diaphragm diagonal a speaker unplugged a comforter uncomfortable a cage like a pointy open-toed high heel
sometimes a razor feels dull and useless or a mirror only looks in at itself
just one sideways glance to confirm a suspicion just one unused tap to believe its done in just one more day like one of these to jump right off the wall right off the counter right into a trash can that feels like a sink or a floral hat
sometimes a pillow just doesn't feel like resting
sometimes a cat toy just doesn't feel like playing
sometimes a bar of soap just doesn't feel like a bar of soap
but like something softer more forgiving something that could sud the love on your skin forever in smooth kisses of argyle sweaters and figure eights
like the goddess found in every unwrapped package like the goddess found in every smudge of spackling like the goddess found in every overused sponge in every butter knife in every mixing bowl or root beer barrel
About the Author
Courtney J. Campbell was born and raised in Michigan, but has lived in South America since 2001. Currently, she resides in Recife, Pernambuco, Brazil where she teaches English and is enrolled in the Master's Program in Education at the Universidade Federal de Pernambuco. Her research focuses on the causes of the spread of the English language in this region in the post World War II period. Her poetry has been published or accepted for publication in PoetryBay, Socialist Women, LanguageandCulture.net, The Michigan Socialist, The Uncommon Sense, Juice Press, The Iodine Poetry Journal, Kill Poet, and The Smoking Poet.
lathered bliss of rounded never-ending cashmered figure eights
really like the way this is written: very natural like being thought and written at the same time. and, i appreciate someone else seeing that inanimate objects have thoughts and feelings.
Sheilagh Ethne O’Leary is an established award-winning art photographer born and living in St. John’s, Newfoundland. Her work has been exhibited/collected internationally and appears in numerous art journals and publications. Sheilagh received her art education through mentorship with Manfred Buchheit, Concordia University’s Faculty of Fine Art, Banff Centre for the Arts, and the Rockport Maine Workshops. Read More...