Senior citizen
Alone in the laundromat
Clutching five clean shirts.
I paid fifty cents
For this scarf that I have on —
I’m a cheap floozy.
They’ve cloned my kitten,
But now I can’t afford him;
I wish we were dead.
My new pink nightgown
Has black buttons down the front,
Like bad directions.
Turn the TV off —
Notice the world around you.
Quick, turn it back on.
At Greer’s laundromat,
Voices drowned out by machines —
Is this prophetic?
How I long to smoke —
What on earth is stopping me?
Not a goddamned thing.
When you live alone,
Fine dining is eating meals
Right out of the pan.
In a low-down mood,
I stare at the kitchen floor.
A black bug crawls by.
I just felt chest pain.
If you are reading this now,
Say goodbye for me.
This article appears in Apr 26 – May 2, 2006.
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