Love & Laundry: Forgive Me

I hate laundry. From the moment it leaves my body after a day of wear to the time it shows up clean in my dresser, I resent its presence in my house. I wish, when I take them off and toss them towards the hamper, my pants would just disappear in a poof of smoke and fire like magician’s flash paper.  I’d have to talk to a magician to find out how to make them reappear cleaned and pressed in my closet.  Or that cleaner over on Milwaukee Street.

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In the spirit of This American Life’s recent segment on the topic of This is Just to Say poem spoofs, I present a rewriting of a rewriting of William Carlos Williams’ poem.

Those who I am asking for forgiveness include Exponential and the owner of this Blog.

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I have dried the jeans

made of denim

which were in the corner of the bedroom

and which

you were probably

planning to air dry

.

Forgive me

if you had done

the laundry yourself

they would not be

so tight

and unyielding against your thighs