The wire hanger is bent into a jagged hook

The wire hanger is bent into a jagged hook.

I’m fishing for hair and gray sludge in the sink

while a girl I haven't seen since the prom

posts a photo of her custom-built mudroom.

I eat my cereal over the basin

so I don’t have to wash the only clean towel I have left.

The radiator is covered in white envelopes,

unpaid tolls for roads I don't remember taking.

I thought there would be more dinner parties.

I thought I’d know how to make a decent roux.

Instead, I’m just standing in the kitchen

waiting for the drain to swallow the evidence.