“Fold” by L. K. Thayer

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

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

© 2010