Spring Cleaning Espionage



I will have to move the bed

now that you’re gone.

Instead of sleep, I fall to the floor,

staring up through the eyes

of the dust bunnies who used to


watch you watch me try to find

the right clothes to wear.

I never noticed there were

so many of them in here,

sneaking about the wooden floors,


hiding in the corners, pretending

not to hear us debate what day to drive

up North, how long I would have

to work that night, who won at darts,

whether or not I cheat at air hockey.


After I move the bed, my dresser

too will have to thrust through

the spies of dust

who know too much.

From there, my vanity will follow.


They’re hard to control,

these calculating dust bunnies.

I catch them into little piles,

but they always escape

to drift back across the floor.


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Natasha Ganes is a co-founder of the artists' community TreeHouse, writer, and marketing director. She is a graduate of Chapman University in Southern California, where she received her MFA in Creative Writing and MA in English Literature. She received her BA in English/Journalism from Madonna University in Michigan. Her poetry and fiction have appeared in Muddy River Poetry Review, Pyrokinection, quarter after, Elephant Tree, Every Writer's Resource, and Poetry Pacific. Her nonfiction has appeared all over the place. Visit the TreeHouse site at: http://treehousearts.me/.


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