Carol Burnett's Washwoman
by Kenneth Pobo

doesn't watch herself
in reruns. The window
in her one-room flat gets filmy.
Grease builds up on the stove.
The jelly jar holding a daisy
leaves a ring on

the sill. Her clothes,
strictly thrift shop or yard sale. Carol
lives in is it Hawaii? A far cry
from Caspar. A book about rain

forests on her nightstand, a picture of
her dead daughter behind her bed.
A torn shade admits slashes of light,

high blood pressure pills
unopened in a brown container.