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

Bleu Plate Special

Monty’s Blue Plate in Madison. Mmmmmmmmmm. Awwwwwwwww. Cute. And gross. That’s Cholula hot sauce inside the ketchup heart. My own addition to the artwork.

Mein Herz Brennt!

Earl Endear nee Senna Blur

Plus me.

She did spectacularly well on her first trip to Pinewood Estates. I was the last one to find my Easter basket. We didn’t go to church. We celebrated the earth’s rebirth and imminent abundance the secular humanist way. With chocolate eggs. Jellybeans taste best when you have to work for them. You wouldn’t think 30somethings would tolerate foraging for a cellophane-wrapped straw basket full of sweets but there were no complaints. We’re so domestic.

Funny Little Woman

The title of this blog first came to my attention when I was young. I read the book “The Funny Little Woman” by Arlene Mosel. A Japanese woman chases a rice ball that falls down her well and into a lost underground city where the Wicked Oni live. She addresses the statues in this underground city as Jizo Sama. My Dad and Mom sometimes used this phrase when they’d address me. Not knowing Japanese, as is the case with most four-year-olds, I didn’t realize Jizo Sama is the guardian of dead children. Sheesh. And I always thought it was adorable.