Clorox

1.

A noun,

as in a commercial disinfecting agent,

but also a verb,

an action to make the water grow

teeth—tiny, crystalline, color-eating teeth—

making the water

capable, bringing red

to its knees:

your oxblood tee now the color of

nipples, your salsa-hot dress neutered

cheap carnation pink,

all our deepest purple

a sad, dry rot of brown.

A complete sentence might read:

Careful now, or Fanny’s gonna clorox

the shit out of your clothes; you and I know

she burns through a bottle a week.

But more likely, you’d hear:

Child, you looking like some trash.

Give your grandma that dinge.

I don’t care if you ain’t got a dime.

I told you a hundred and one times—

soap’s cheap.

2.

A noun,

but also a verb,

as in to clorox:

to clorox that carny tub and toilet,

to clorox the chicken-grease backsplash and hand-smudge light switch,

as in to clorox the cup

Donason drank from

when he visited

up from Miami

to smoke cigarettes and

to try not to say

goodbye.

Even at six, I could see

the Kaposi sarcoma

too big for the joy

of the violet scarf

spangled round his neck.

He was one of the boys

she took in,

raised right

alongside her own, but

when he left, she cloroxed that cup twice,

then threw it out.

3.

A smell—

wealth sweetened with a little zip,

a salty tang,

a bright chlorine rising up

to say, it’s alright now,

put your babies in water wings, let them splash in,

because this ain’t nothing

like that piss-yellow swimming hole

sick with infantigo, this ain’t nothing like Bowling Green

where the only time she let herself get dunked

was to be baptized in that mudbottom river

named Barren.

Come. This water is modern,

this water is amnesiac

with no memory of leathery eggs

of cottonmouths hatching in its bank

or catfish whiskering the

holes below;

hell, this water can’t even remember

common spiders that once straddled its surface,

walking impossible

as Christ himself.

4.

An agent manufactured specifically

to break the chemical bonds

of color,

as in to clorox the tub white and the toilet

whiter, as in to clorox the tile white and the grout

whiter, as in to blanch a house

a hundred shades of white—

antique lace walls and cloud trim, the unforgiving stark

of Formica cabinets and counters, the sleepy snow

sheets and shag rugs, the bone leather sofa and matching chairs,

the take-off-your-shoes-or-Fanny’s-gonna-whup-your-ass

wall-to-wall white carpet

white enough to put Elvis’ living room

to shame,

everything brand and spanking and new,

everything white

because you know and I know other people are lazy

and buy dark colors to hide

dirt, but you know my house is clean by looking,