Found this poem this morning on "The Writer's Almanac" (see link). I love it.
Poem: "Men Come, Men Go, but Laundry is Forever," by Sara King.
Men Come, Men Go, but Laundry is Forever
Two towels mean he's been here,
and one towel means he's gone.
Beer bottles gathering dust mean
he's been gone awhile.
Then a new name on the phone machine,
wine glasses on the floor,
my children exchange glances,
eyebrows up and down.
So who is this guy? they ask me.
Just some friend, I say.
Does this friend have a name?
It's John, Okay?
And you're not going to meet him,
unless he's going to stay.
But he doesn't.
I declare him irresponsible,
He says I don't play volleyball,
I'm not skinny, and I'm not Jewish.
Then his photographs come down,
and his towel.
His toothbrush hits the trash.
I resume my old ways of keeping house—
Do you think you'll ever remarry, Mom?
It's too late, I tell them.
I'm running out of towels.