my titles aren't long enough so fuck it

Watch dawdling shift,
Soap in the eyes sans suds with the dishes.
There are flaws,
and the drain is clogged.

There are ways
to snivel and not get caught,
soft layer of god-knows-what
under the sink.

Ever helpless paintings made,
Morphed in the patchwork,
Forgery of formality folded in.

Big tilted plateau.