Nemphon Window Washing, Ltd.

By D.S. West

Sheets, creamy, this peculiar bedroom atmosphere.
Silk. Garnacha and ganja, which sounds like dragons—
It’s too many tannins, my brain aspires to starry sponge bath,

until then I struggle as a window-washer, scouring the
what I see, reflected, in & with the how I see it, molten mirror
to the stars, forgetting and remembering seasonally. It’s
photons, narrative and glass,

eighty-one Lynch movies later, Merlin beams in
from his respective decrepit cliché, an allegedly
dumb-dead story about incest, royalty and Avalon,
soap opera shit, but, a romance,
in the window-washing sense,

replete with window-washers
toting buckets, sponges.


D.S. West is a writer, artist, and hopelessly lost pedestrian, presently hopelessly lost in sunny Boulder, CO. A list of his publishing credits is available at