Litkicks Message Board Archive

at the launromat

Posted to Action Poetry




Washing machines sound like beating
Hearts trying to be heard by
Those pumping in quarters and
Clothes. Twenty five (lonely hearts) at your
Service waiting to love your belongings
Better than your hands can.
Shadows yelling FREE SOAP scream accross the walls above
Spinning heat turning in my mind's eye
And the heartbeats have stopped
We have exhausted them
Making them care for us.