Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
10.09.2012
3.24.2011
Repost: La Lament Le Laundry
I have been struggling with the same mountainous pile of laundry for the past three weeks.
No lie.
I thought a little repost, this one in particular, was in order as I spend the day taking this bad mamba jamba down.
Happy Thursday everyone!
P.S. You can find a fresh new post of mine over at MMB today!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The laundry.

It lounges.
It loiters.
It lurks.
In a labyrinth of
lusty,
lugubrious
levels.

The lady of the land,
She is the luckless, laden laundress.
How was she leveled to this
loathsome,
lowbrow
labor?

Loyal to the love of the lord and the lodgers,
She launches herself lithely into the laundering livelihood, lugging the leagues from the lobby and the loft.

The landslide of laundry leans under her laudable lather,
But as the load lingers,
she languishes,
lachrymose for liberty...
...or at least a little lounge.

Landlocked by the lapels.
She longs and grows
lackadaisical,
lackluster,
listless.

But, liable to her loved ones,
she leaps off her laurels,
empties the lint trap,
and locates her liveliness again.

Little by little,
the laundry lightens,
laid in lithe loads,
localized in lockers.

The luminous lass is
laughing,
loquacious,
light-hearted.
What the L?!?!
No lie.
I thought a little repost, this one in particular, was in order as I spend the day taking this bad mamba jamba down.
Happy Thursday everyone!
P.S. You can find a fresh new post of mine over at MMB today!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The laundry.
It lounges.
It loiters.
It lurks.
In a labyrinth of
lusty,
lugubrious
levels.
The lady of the land,
She is the luckless, laden laundress.
How was she leveled to this
loathsome,
lowbrow
labor?
Loyal to the love of the lord and the lodgers,
She launches herself lithely into the laundering livelihood, lugging the leagues from the lobby and the loft.
The landslide of laundry leans under her laudable lather,
But as the load lingers,
she languishes,
lachrymose for liberty...
...or at least a little lounge.
Landlocked by the lapels.
She longs and grows
lackadaisical,
lackluster,
listless.
But, liable to her loved ones,
she leaps off her laurels,
empties the lint trap,
and locates her liveliness again.
Little by little,
the laundry lightens,
laid in lithe loads,
localized in lockers.
The luminous lass is
laughing,
loquacious,
light-hearted.
7.26.2010
rain

I like my new home for the most part
But there is one part
That drives me apart
That is...how it always smells like urine outside. All the time. How it wafts in through our ever-efficient swamp cooler. How it burns and wrinkles and offends my nose. And how it contributes to the queasiness of my already temperamental tummy.
But today...Today it's raining {!} and I am doing a native dance in hope that the heavens open wide and do their part
to wash that obscene odor far far away from my new home,
my little part
of the world.
7.01.2010
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