The Same and Better

She goes in the night and I am

             changing diapers like clockwork

only it’s nothing like clockwork

             it is opposed to clockwork like flowers

like Time Warner customer service

             like coconuts swaying on their frayed stems

as palmetto bugs ride on the Atlantic breeze

             truth be told I change diapers but

I haven’t changed after all these years I’m still

             wary of cleanliness we are born without it

we can never have it for long especially

             this Tuesday night where she squalls and I curse

at the hardwood floor which holds a sort of shine

             despite the grit and stains reminding me

of gray glaciers in Iceland scabbed with dirt absorbing

             all the volcanic ash before each year’s new snow

I want to scrub no part of the past from myself

             I want to be the same and better daughter wake me

at all hours I mean it all hours as if our lives

             were every time at the same time the same