Washing Machine

Everyone wants a washing machine:
sudsy, spin-cycled American Dream;
wet cabinet for your dirty garments;
Holy of Holies to those apartment-
hunting, because almost nothing is worse
than finding your boxers and socks dispersed,
tossed aside in the common laundry room
by a stranger in slippers who assumed
you were going to leave your laundry there
for hours, so they moved it. I don’t care
how long you’d mistakenly thought I’d take
to come switch my clothes. You couldn’t wait
five minutes like a not-asshole before
your grubby hands fondled my clean drawers?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s