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Scenes From A Laundromat

 

3:01pm.
Sunless summer  
crawled in the womb of afternoon  
gathering clouds by the yoke to devilís tune.  
Brooding slurs, humdrum'd whimpers  
rolled in irony, roiling thespian tragedy of †
a change coming.  

3:17pm.
The washers †
twitched in methodical righteousness  
agitating right, left  
right of streaked pane  
green neon light flashing †
Cus omerís Only, t silent †
-ly spinning with sins of mortality.  
Unwiser than infancy  
fools of immortality  
helical helix  
entwined in vain  
spiraling downward †
the beaten slippery slops of  
consciousness.  

3:38pm.  
Heís there again  
parked at the handicap space  
singing The Lordís prayer  
pacing, praising, shouting  
$10 to pearly gate.  
Five dollars †
more than past November  
a pass ín go to heavenly father.  

3:46pm.  
The drier  
screeched in deceleration  
more coins. Drop one †
then another  
tumbling tumbleweed of prayers.  

3:59pm.  
The newspaper  
was upside down  
in her raw red hands  
crooked claws branching †
in tattered threads  
trembling in gestalt of †
differences.  
Cold  
fragile  
old  
perhaps too bold  
focused on the word †
at the end of the row †
waiting for the storm †
marching through walls  
to mellow in the marrow.
Layla
Written by Layla
Published | Edited 10th Jul 2019
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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