LAUNDRY DAY

My Weekly Selective Recognizance




always put off, always shoved aside.
I am that pile in the corner, with humble beginnings as a small mound,
I steadily transform into a mountain heaping of dirty garments
with every layer of article of clothing that you remove

In my infancy I start off as 2 pieces of fabric,
then my being expands to Dark washed Jeans, Socks,
maybe a Jacket or two
then comes your colorful flowery boxers,
and lets not forget that Obey shirt laced with gold screaming "HOPE!"
All a colorful and pungent display of fashion,

A convenient mess really
Yet I am always ignored - magically omitted from the line of sight
Somehow you just dont see me
No matter how offensive I try to be
The indifference is unwavering
Amazing!
Just like that smell that wafts emanating from the laundry basket

Observation has it that unless you start running out of underwear
I will forever be a black hole in your room.
You know I'm there, yet like an ugly unwanted girlfriend
You seem to just not care
I guess I will never win your heart,
compared to say the way I win over your olfactory senses.
Shall we pause and take a big wiff of me?
I heard the sense of smell is what triggers nostalgia
Hello! I am here
Do you remember me now?

... Nothing,
I can take a hint that the answer is but a resounding "No"
I am but the red-headed step child,
that seems to blossom out of the confines of your room
and really, I am fine with that.

My existence seems to be in weekly spurts anyway
every Sunday you carry me to my watery grave
silvery like mercury,
lathered with detergent as my existence washes away

all that I am ,the accumulated filth and dirt,
the smell, phone numbers inscribed on errant receipts
and rogue dollar bills that you never seem to spend
cumulatively the sum of an organized chaos
...that's me by the way,
all that I am you tear down,
only to start over the next time you undress ever so carefully

how existential,
I guess the chapter to this book has yet to be closed,
I guess this is for the next time
I guess I will see you tomorrow...


in hopes that you dont ever wash me,

signed,

your dirty fucking laundry.




-chrissanjose