Laundromat: July 10, 9:47 AM

by Steven McCabe

laundromat 1

laundromat final

I’m in the

laundromat

because my dryer broke

and this radio is too loud

and every song sounds insincere –

finally Annie Lennox and

the Eurythmics are singing

Talk to Me.

laundromat 2

laundromat 8

I wonder when I’ll ever

get around to reading

Ulysses.

laundromat z

The radiator is painted

an almost indescribable

shade of turquoise.

Lively but dead serious –

mechanical.

laundromat 26

The top of each rib protrudes

thin, flat and sharp.

I can imagine these edges

pressing into my face

after they arrest me in the

grand sweep.

laundromat rinse

laundromat horizon

Harnesses and 19th century

contraptions hoisting the radiator

above prisoners strapped to beds.

Thirty full seconds for each

inmate.

What if they decide to heat them?

laundromat y

Loud sirens nearby.

A city wind blowing

through the open door.

laundromat new alchemy

A guy reading a

book asks me

if I smell

cigarette smoke.

laundromat 8

“No.”

laundromat final

A bit of paranoia where the rinse cycle becomes the flood and you find yourself dowsing for land. A bit of paranoia when the full moon above is melanite as you shuffle through a lineup for clean clothes on visiting day. You twist the knob on the change machine. You open a box of dry powder and spill half. Your new plan involves having a notebook and walking where you can hear birds. Later you’ll put on iTunes and listen to Bob Dylan sing Copper Kettle. You escaped what you never should have escaped.