It's such a cold custodial feeling;
the incessant push of care
against the unstopping rash 
of filth and oxidation

So I answer every text
as if it will make a difference
this time

and now and then I brush
through the crust of mildew
to see the white of tile 
but by the time I drink my water
and readjust my rubber gloves
the stains have come again 

and even though it's 4am
I return your latest call
and I refill the chemicals 
in my various spray bottles
until the emulated ringing sound
stops chirping in my ear
and I guess I have to leave
another voicemail