Betsy Mars
Betsy Mars is a prize-winning poet, photographer, and an editor at Gyroscope Review. Her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. Her poetry is widely available online and in print, most recently in ONE ART, SWWIM, and Panoply. She has two published chapbooks, Alinea, and In the Muddle of the Night, co-authored with Alan Walowitz. A full-length book, Rue Obscure, is forthcoming from Sheila-Na-Gig Editions in mid-2026.
Dirty Dishes
One day I will be one of those old people
whose dishes bear the trace of what
is left unwashed, unseen,
fingers no longer sensitive to the residual
grime, eyes failing, or lack of some kind
of vigilance, or perhaps indifference, because
what’s it going to do, kill me?
And people won’t want to come
around. They’ll invite me out
sometimes, to restaurants
with their kitchen inspections
and Grade A placards in their windows,
or maybe they will bring paper plates
which (I will mutter) are bad
for the environment, not even
recyclable with their food
waste, and I will pretend
not to notice when they wash
my already-washed glasses
before drinking, as I sit
in my hydraulic stand-assist
chair, playing
with the controls, elevating myself
above the roiling sea of household threats.
But not just yet.
