Waterproof

Blue triangles march in a line across the plastic,

but at the seam, they break and fall out of step.

I stood there until the water ran cold,

watching a speck of mildew grow in the corner,

a dark bloom that the bleach couldn't reach.

I was supposed to be at the store an hour ago.

Instead, I’m tracing the grid of the liner,

wondering how many gallons it takes

to wash off the feeling of being wrong

about everything I said before breakfast.