every minute of every hour...

how is grief categorized
who decides when and where and why
things should be memorialized?
where is the box for the mundane relentless
little daily attacks

like when I realize that the laundry detergent
bought last when you were alive
is nearly gone,
shampoos I bought for you to try,
ibuprofen bottle finally empty,
no one else is using up the wash clothes.
i'm doing laundry just for me, and it's stupid.
what I am going to do with all these towels?

how I am supposed to remember what spices we have
in the kitchen, when I can't text you about them?
who else thinks about Hilary McKay when saying 'cardamom'
even though that's not right,
Cause Caddie was named after cadmium, not a spice

all these library books, on the side table, taking up space
like always, you never complained,
who I am supposed to talk to about them now?

the frozen dinners we would split on hard nights,
are simply there now,
leaving me half to take to work the next day
convenient, sure.

oh but I would give that convenience up, just
to have you back in the world again.

let us split half a pizza and watch some tv together
before we have to get up and face the world again

I could bear anything, when you were here.