Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Iz Jun 2019
It’s been awhile
My nail beds grew brittle since the last time we spoke
My hair a shade or so darker
the cat has another uti and the dryer broke
Won’t run for more than 10 without shutting off
They say it’s the tube it runs up the wall and pops out the roof
How stupid
It’s a fire hazard and just a **** big inconvenience
Every night we’ve spent pulling in and out of that laundry mat
Me legs feel like they’re stuck in molasses
This life is but to fast for a sugary sweet like me
I dream of dimes in the dozens and I’m not talking about change
Big lights and big bucks all coming my way
But I wake up in the same room
Living this same life
And i try so desperately to close my eyes
but those dreams aren’t what’s meant for this life
And I know it
Meg Howell Feb 2017
Love and practicality
A ladder leading into a tumbling dryer
Dangerous and blurred

Flowers with roots to hidden caves,
Caves known as the "heart and soul,”
Which we keep hidden

A tightripe balanced over the sea,
Inescapable and thrilling
Michael Ryan Jan 2016
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.
Random.  Dreamy.  Life. Pleasant.  Appreciate the small things?
Foxgopher Nov 2015
Like a dryer is the human mind
Sopping wet and rolling around
Everything succumbs to heat
Shrinks, tears, fades

Even the sock gets lost in the dryer
And yet one remains
A half of a whole that can no longer be complete
One sock
Gone forever

Do we mourn the lost
Where is the vigil?
A sock mourned is a thought lost
An idea that can never be
Static we never feel again

— The End —