Normally, the world keeps its course
And stays on the straight and narrow and
Lines up with the arrow of its trajectory.
Normally, I am a bit more put-together.
Normally, the sun rises from the east,
Sets in the west,
And the leaves fall from the branches in the Fall.
Normally, I am a bit more put-together.

Take your head off your shoulders and
Put it in a hamster ball,
Then place it in the tumble dryer,
Then put the dryer in
Orbit.
That is how I feel every time
I see that smile or that hair, so fine;
Voice like wine that I drink under moonlight;
When I hear that laugh or look at those eyes.
No matter if I am the subject of their gaze or not,
They gleam in the light, as they are jewels.

Surely, you all must know how this feels.
A nightmare – or a dream – it could be.
Vexing are the thoughts that run through my head.
All I know is that my thoughts are like a dryer in orbit.
Normally, they are not so wound up.
Normally, I am more put together.
All I know is I love those eyes and those lips and that
Hair that lays on that skin, so fair.

“Let us go then you and I,
Where the evening is stretched out against the sky”,
And dance the night away until the sun
Catches your eyes again.
You are extraordinary, I know it,
And all I wish to do is just to
Take walks down our sidewalks and
Stargaze under every constellation.

It matters not what constellation we choose,
Because you are the brightest star I can see.

Surely, I must be mistaken.
A person like this is quite honestly
Very hard to find.
All I know is that my head is so dizzy.
Normally, I am much more aligned with the world.
Normally, I am more put-together.
A little cliché, but I love it when that
Hair caresses that skin, so fair.

Normally, my brain works correctly.
Normally, I am well-spoken.
Normally, my thoughts are not spinning and spinning,
Stuck in a dryer in orbit.

The stars are spinning too quickly
For me to keep up with and my thoughts
Are doing the same.

Stuck in a dryer in orbit.

Smells like clean clothes
it's always pleasant
at the laundromat
down the street from
my apartment.

The washer and dryer
are currently broken
looks like some teenager
didn't know what they were doing
as the washer is filled with water
and their clothes remain
inside dwelling to smell
of mildew.

The dryer looks like an antique
because it is the slime green of the 70's
mismatched to it's wifley counterpart
that is stainless steel sparkles
so I assume the dryers death
is not the fault of our fresh water culprit
but electrical problems brought on
from existing forever.

They broke a few months ago
and I've never gone to check
if they were brought back to life
as I've found myself
intoxicated with the laundromat.

It's the mechanical hums
an orchestra of ball barrings
with clothes tumbling
through their fabric softeners
to become fresh gentle cottons
the smell of Hugs
is the aroma of heaven.