Unemployed

I just laundered the Shroud of Turin
Cleaned the blood stains
And tear smears
From under the chin
In my washing machine
Before hanging it out to dry
Watching it sway in the breeze
I realized there was still blood on the knees
This made me cross with myself
Because I work with such conviction
The idea of rinse and repeat
Made me want to simply forget
Whatever crucifixion
After all
I am never coming back