painting on saturday

i'm painting
the hallway antique white
I hum bob dylan
as the roller
spit-speckles the wall,
the not-quite-white
freckles my skin

and i think about
possible careers,
muffin recipes,
loving a new man,
trimming my hair--
as the gravel-thick
of dylan rolls
over me

my overalls hang
pantlegs rolled to my knees
my grandad's paint shirt
spread over me like canvas
i am dipped in eggshell creaminess
spattering the chipped old
with fresh stickyness

when i cannot make things new
I redo
hallways and overripe thoughts,
little steps in an ivory smudged life
working the edges
with a half can of paint

Shelly Rambo
Voice, 1998