Because the Laundry is Still Stupid

I would like to write a blog post today.
I have a mountain of laundry taunting me from the garage.
Ergo, I cannot write a blog post today.

But I can, in honor of said laundry, post a rerun of a laundry inspired poem from two years ago.


Sonnet to my F***ing Laundry


How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways.
I hate thee to the depth and breadth and height
My arms can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of towels and underpants.
I hate thee to the level of my family’s
Most urgent need, all day and every night.
I hate thee freely, as boys toss their socks about.
I hate thee purely, as girls turn outfits into piles.
I hate thee with a passion put to use
In my former life, and with frightening strength.
I hate thee with a hate I hope to lose
When my small saints move out.
I hate thee with the breath,
Fibers, tears, of all my life!—and, so help me God,
I shall put this hate to use to conquer you.

* * *

More of my Poetry Spoofs here.


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