i am waiting for someone to come get their clothes from the dryer
i am waiting for the laundry machine to open up
it cycles
    every
        thirty
            seconds
and then stops

a daybreak's worth of beeping chirps
i am waiting for someone to come get their clothes from the dryer

as my wet washed clothes begin to get drier
as my patience begins to dry up
i am waiting for the laundry machine to open up
it cycles
    every
         thirty
                 seconds
and then stops

I took my old rickety-rackety down to the 38th annual Jickety Jackety
I glimpsed a flit of Thilts, purring Brazkets in a row
    a couple of Thrice Heim'ed Tippens
        and even one thundering Lugubrious Quandry
but mine was the only rackety that day at the Jickety Jackety

circuited with spection and plick-placked with aghast
did trundle my rickety-rackety with nary a quinkle
    "Welcome to the 38th annual Jickety Jackety", trumpeted the Sonorator
        "we eagerly await the clinking of clonks, the unexpected wabeling, and the ever hazardous finale"
    "a grand spectacle, a cacophonous din,"
    "shall the Jickety Jackety begin!"

a clamor strode through the spectators and washed over the contenders
as tension undid and knotted brows
    stitching and sewing a slurry and tangle

did dribble-thrash the Brazkets at the first note of "-in!"
on surged the Thraggonks not to be out done
        as my rickety-rackety gave a confident thitter-thatter
    and did dance onwards midst a flock of Thilts
        and my rickety-rackety chortled with patter
    firmly did lumber the Lugubrious Quandry
        each motion a thunder, it proceeded grandly
the chitter and natter as the crowds ribboned and tattered
the slither stomp wander of contenders contested
the sun ran slipshod down to the horizon
as Sonorator sang close the end of the the 38th

that day I went down to the Jickety Jackety
me and my rickety-rackety

your hands through my hair
your fingers upon my skin
your sweat down my back

staring at the people in the nexus of transition
some are walking, jogging,
or dragging their bits and pieces behind them
lumping and ******* across linoleum seams with a clatter
and blitzing along on a travelator
any two of them heading to or coming from a different location
where you're bound and how fast you need to go
or are you right where you need to be
or you're content just going nice and slow
it's microcosmic I see

do you mean it or do you just want me?
are you here to make lines on my naked skin
or to nestle your soul in between my heartbeats
do you mean it or do you just want me?

do you hitch my breath with butterfly kisses?
and do you shackle my spirit amorously
and do you bruise my skin with ferocious pucker
and do you see me so deep ardently

do you mean it or do you just want me?
to dance kisses downward on your neck
do you mean it or do you just want me?
to sit with you as time wanders through us
do you mean it or do you just want me?

my haphazard clutter of books
stacked and stumbled in a cacophony of to read, and have reads
with a chic clique of am readings tittering through
my careworn spines and eagerly wrenched pages
and stiff backed unbent sentries
concealing tearful tomorrows or paper expanses of doldrums

you answer my love like it's a test
as you tilt your head and deliberate
and pick words so slow and discard the rest
and I pry and pray and calculate
the math-o-manic inputs for your robot ears
for your robot mouth to soothe my fears
and your wide eyed confusion
as tears line my face a canyon
your dark eyed stare puts me on knees
to your imperious posture I plead