everyone’s sick
of hearing about the pandemic
but the laundry’s still gotta get done
it’s almost a mile to walk
cloudy and windy, chance of rain
and there are violets blooming
and kids out in their yards
and some guy grilling something
that smells amazing
and a fat man with a bulging ruck
who waves and tells me
the laundromat is crowded
but most people there are
waiting in their cars
the ones inside speak spanish
and one of them is clearly the funny one
because the others burst into laughter
at everything she says
when i slide my ten dollar bill
into the change machine
and the quarters fall
i always say “oooh, i’m a winner”
but i didn’t bring hand sanitizer
and this time all i can think about
is how many people
have touched this machine
nobody’s winning right now
we are all of us losers
except you, i guess
rip the detergent open with my teeth
my hands are tied
but my mouth tastes clean
who knows when i’ll get back to work
who knows when we’ll see each other again
who knows how hard things will be
over the next few months
i’ve spent all day worried, hungry
empty, crying, sleeping
there’s only one person here
wearing a mask
myself included
and i remember you
complaining about hearing
(take me home country roads)
again and again and again
burned out on the song
that keeps playing in my heart
(to the place i belong)
none of this is easy
and i am sore and hollow
but if i get to see you again
i will wear clean clothes,
goddamnit.