Cellulose and Grit

The Dutch oven is soaking in the basin,

a heavy, cast-iron failure of a dinner.

I thought I could scrub the carbon away

if I just pushed hard enough against the grit.

But the yellow sponge gave up first.

It tore right down the middle, a ragged split

that felt like a personal insult to my hands.

I dropped it into the gray, lukewarm water

and watched it bob back up to the surface.

It sits on the stainless steel now,

heavy and sour and full of the mess

it was never meant to actually finish.