Walking, I need to do laundry
Steps towards the room where there's whirring and
people yelling at one another
for spilling bleach on their blue and red shirts.
An airplane flies over my head going faster
then I can even think.
A lady walks in front of me
and it looks like her feet are broken at the soles
her shoes aren't filled
and she looks off balance.
It takes about four dollars to do one load in these
piece of shit machines.
Who knows what we really want at eighteen, anyway?
I'm always falling in love with the ladies at the laundry room
they look for coins and I look for change.
But it always remains evident
as the planes fly over head
that I will be without a lover at the laundry room.
But to me she's perfect.