Blue Work Shirt
By
Gail Mazur
I go into our bedroom closet
with its one blue work shirt, the cuffs
frayed, the paint stains a loopy non-
narrative of color, of spirit.
Now that you are bodiless
and my body’s no longer the body you knew,
it’s good to be reminded every morning
of the great mess, the brio of art-making.
On the floor, the splattered clogs
you called your “Pollock shoes.”
with its one blue work shirt, the cuffs
frayed, the paint stains a loopy non-
narrative of color, of spirit.
Now that you are bodiless
and my body’s no longer the body you knew,
it’s good to be reminded every morning
of the great mess, the brio of art-making.
On the floor, the splattered clogs
you called your “Pollock shoes.”
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Disclaimer
We do not accept unsolicited submissions. American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. “Blue Work Shirt” from Land’s End: New & Selected Poems by Gail Mazur. Originally published in Ploughshares. Copyright ©2020 by The University of Chicago. Reproduced by permission. Introduction copyright © 2024 by The Poetry Foundation.