I called the cleaners today.
They come with a guarantee.
Fresh scents
and a clean you can feel.

Three men traipsing through
Screaming rooms full of boxes of
denim and dirt and boots.

Machines that pull away
The salt of sweat and the
dust of wood shavings from the
carpet. And I still don’t forget.

When the first man takes away the box of denim,
I still remember

days that were lined by a blue
that refused to leave.

When the next takes away a box filled with dirt-riddled
boots,
I still remember
the places those boots walked.

Then the last,
who wraps up
that machine
and leaves.
He got fired. I can still remember
everything.