New soap

Tonight I am shaving like my father,
after the shower in my underwear,
briefs to make the experience more authentic,
or just because I refuse to wash clothes until the weekend.
He asks me today if I can just accept
that you are unhappy, to not want
to change you, to realize that I
am powerless with regards to your dilemma(s).
So I play tennis, and sweat through my holy
shirt that I have been wearing for days,
the mosquitos are out and attack my ankles
if I do not move quickly enough.
My shin is scratched to a bloody mess,
but I fixed my car myself, this weekend
I will repair the garbage disposal and
take out the trash and wash the counters.
My shin will likely be healed by then,
and maybe there will be rain,
and I guess I will wash clothes,
and I will buy more soap too.
Before the shave, I walked
across the dangerous tiles, naked and soaked,
and retrieved the last bar from the bulk supply
that I learned from you.
I wish I could clean everything
before my interest goes away.
I always wanted to make you happy.
There are things that cannot be cleaned.
You will never remember to put a new bar
in the shower until you are already in and soaked.