Contemplating the Long Grass

The sky is as gray
as the bottom of my bathtub,

which reminds me,
it’s been a month since I cleaned

and dustballs in the hall
dance when I walk by,

follow me into the living
room, which reminds me

that I never got around
to reading the stack

of magazines on the coffee table,
and now I’m three months

behind on Cooking Light,
which reminds me,

I never did make
the Thai recipe for

grilled beef salad
that I clipped from the paper,

though I did buy
lemongrass for the dressing,

which reminds me that I
also bought figs that day,

so I look in the bin
of the refrigerator, and sure

enough, there’s a mushy mass,
gray as the impending sky,

so I guess I won’t mow
after all.