a pale froth
slicks the basement floor
the drain hose
the overfilled washer balks
the clothes go unwashed
like milk gone reek sour
that vile mess
She sure pulled that smelly plan
from the garbage can
7 thoughts on “Shadorma 208, 209”
This pair of poems serves as a pretty accurate metaphor for the state of my life and the state of my brain right now: chaos and sludge. Ha ha!
You need the cleansing power of a detergent meant for tough jobs, to stick with the laundry motif. And a good hose to wash it all away. If only there was a mental method to do just this!
I felt that way trying to figure out my new laundry room system. What ever happened to quarters? (K)
You know I was just thinking about this the other day, I was thinking about the laundry room in one building I lived in before I was married and thinking collecting quarters, now I would have to go to the bank and get change as I never use currency.
I know, it’s strange to actually use money for a transaction now.
I have 20 dollar bills in my wallet very angry that they are stuck there, I think, since I never think to call on them to pay for anything these days.
I buy fruit and vegetables at the farmer’s market and street stands a lot of the time, and they mostly want cash. But that’s about it. Oh and tipping people, which you can’t escape in NY.
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