I hate doing laundry
Especially my own
The clothes that I soiled
The folding
It’s so temporary
The folding because
It just comes undone
They say it all comes out in the wash
They say everybody is a winner
But to match socks and to
Save receipts and to balance my checkbook
Leaves me undone
Phobic actually, into paralyzing fits
Of truth or consequences
I rebel
I rebel at needing to balance my life
Trying to balance on the heels of
Spiked stilettoed truth
Far fetched is the good Samaritan
Who lends a hand to a damsel in distress
And gets his balls chopped off in the process
I rebel at clipping coupons and tightening my belt
And chasing dust bunnies under the rug
© 2010
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I couldn’t decide if the tone of this was angry, resentful or just being facetiously funny, but I found it enjoyable, like having a good grumble with a girlfriend over a cup of our favorite coffee and taking nothing too seriously except, of course, ourselves! 🙂
yes, grumbly, and all of the above, thanks!!
A, yes, my sweet friend. Me, too! Me, too!
thanks sweetie!
What great work Lisa. Yours is a powerful voice
I think I was in a mood, LOL! Thanks Angela!
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Every day of your life Lisa you hang out more washing!!!
Some people walk by without a single glance…
Like the poems you write…..
But one day all will come out in the wash and not by chance!!
Thank you darling Mitch!
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“to balance on the heels of spiked stiletto truth” OH MY! That is one of the greatest lines I have ever read. Nice really nice.
Thanks so much! 🙂