lacking that
the day is suddenly
naked to dry fluorescence
buzzing the Laundromat --
quarters spiral on the floor
concentrically converging
it's over in hours
but right now it's agitation
the hot and/or cold
almost, but not quite
and then tumbling
to finish with empty pockets
order, fold and stack
when evening weighs in
suddenly clothed --
glass doors slowly close
coins rolled, then counted
and lights flicker out
A contest entry
- laundry day by adsaige.
300 points, ended August 14, 2008, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Sounds like a laundry mat. Oh yes, we do visit one every Sunday. In your poem, I could hear those quarters being put in the slots. Not only did you have imagery, but you had a sound to it. Great job and good luck in the contest.
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Judged
And interesting piece. It does seem very metaphoric to me as I can take the laundromat, the clicking of quarters, flicking of flourescent lights, and then them going out as a inner turmoil, or quite literal. The mind's eyes is extenstive and brilliant.
Thank you for entering.
Good Luck!
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