The Resonance of No
Yes, yes, we’ve heard. The dishwasher wastes less
and cleans better. But Kenkō believed in the beauty
of leisure, and how better to make nothing
while standing with hands in soapy water, thoughts
skipping from Miles Davis’s languid notes to the spider
ascending to safe shelter under the sill (after I blow
on her to amuse myself), washing my favorite knife
and wondering if I should hone it, not to mention
my skills on the six-string or the potato peeler.
And if I linger at the plates, even the chipped one,
admiring their gleam after hot water rinses away
the soap residue, who could question the quick gulp
of ale or the shuffle of an almost-but-not-quite
dance step-or-stumble while arranging them on the
ribbed rack, back-to-back, in time to Coltrane’s
solo. Then the forgotten food processor’s blade
bites my palm, and I remember that I’ve outgrown
the dark suit, the cut branches still need bundling
and none of the words I’ve conjured and shaped
over decades and miles will extend their comfort
when I stand at my father’s grave this week or next.
“The Resonance of No,” was published in December 2016 in Gravel, and is included in my chapbook, From Every Moment a Second.
Daniel Schnee wrote about this poem here.
Music Credit: Cool Vibes Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/
O at the Edges 
What better positioning to process loss than standing at kitchen sink washing dishes? Music surely helps, but there is something about the soapy water, the rinsing, the tactile contact with water and dishes … where else can we let our minds wander yet validly claim we were doing something useful?
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Dish washing is, at times, soothing. It’s also occasionally annoying, and sometimes I don’t feel like doing them. But mostly, it’s just something that I do, like making coffee in the morning. And yes, the hot water, the feeling that something is being accomplished, the rinsing/washing away of the unwanted — it’s all rather cathartic.
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I love this poem! I just had Rose listen to it to remind her that is no dishwasher in our future!
Also, I love the music. Sometimes when I have an artist talk, I point to early influences. This is Kenneth Patchen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMnybWXkcpw
He’s an early influence. You’re a contemporary one:)
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Thanks, Ron! The Patchen recording is weird and wonderful. I keep thinking that one day I’ll be able to accompany my reading with mandolin or guitar, but…
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My dishes keep piling up. Perhaps the answers are there, in the bubbles. I never thought of it as catharsis, only dirty dishes that pile up.
Lovely.
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I may be a bit nutty about washing dishes…
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Oh don’t say that! I was inspired…
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I admit to being slovenly in other areas of the house (books and papers are scattered about my “garret,” and the workbench in the garage is a disaster), but for some reason I can’t stand piled up dishes. And since I cook just about everyday, and use bowls, measuring cups and utensils more than most, I’d guess, on average, I need to wash dishes several times a day just to keep pace. Otherwise we’d have to run a partially loaded dishwasher daily.
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Yes, exactly. That is what got me to having better habits. We moved here and I no longer have a double sink. Its got to be empty and shiny before I begin.
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p.s. I was also thinking that photo looked familiar. Did you use it for another poem about doing the dishes? From another fundraiser
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I’ve used it before.
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it’s cool, sorry, I was just looking for the poem. I’ll use search
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I’m not certain that I’ve ever posted it, beyond the link to the 30-30 site. Now I need to look for it. Ha.
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I know this poem well Robert, from your wondrous ‘Chapbook’ here on my bookshelf (page 8) …
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Thank you, Ivor!
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Deeply stirring and stunning in it’s beautiful sad metaphor.
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Thanks very much, Holly.
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It’s my pleasure.
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