Kristen de Kline #210 Domesticity

Can’t you just write about domesticity,
he said,
your poems are full of bodies,
screeching and lawless: 
characters nodding off on wooden crates
in concreted backyards
chain smoking Winnie Blues 
stubbing out butts
on faded denim
burning holes
in upper thighs
their faces
decorated
with teardrops
as they gasp
through strains
of Joy Division:
love
love will tear us apart
again 

I tried:
when I pegged
my son’s red Bunnings shirts
onto the clothesline
I saw the luminous yellow tag
race across the back fence:
# YOUNG & DUM
in his bedroom
I unpeeled tangled sheets
tossed them into the laundry hamper
collected an ice-cream carton
a porno magazine
a bag of latex balloons
and half a dozen teaspoons
there is more to this story
but let's leave it there

Does this cut it?