By Shannon Curtin

Shed the day at the door.
Remove your shoes and watch and wedding ring;
let them huddle together on the console.
Let them debrief the remote.
Peel off your shirt on your way up the stairs;
it yearns to hug the bathroom floor.
While you’re at it,
leave your pants to puddle near the tub,
anchored by your leather belt.
Let the claw feet envy your socks.
Deposit your sins in rings on the enamel
and return to me a new man.

One Response to “‘The Bather’”

  1. […] We’re excited to share work by Shannon Curtin, a poet from Portsmouth, Virginia. Read two new poems by Curtin: “Cut” and “The Bather“. […]

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