Home » Poetry » Laundry Day

Laundry Day

Drinking’s become a chore

as boring as laundry day.

Except, I love doing laundry—

and the dishes—and the chores.

And all that day to day business

you swore you’d never do

when you were young and too good for it.

But I’m fine with it. In fact,

I enjoy it. Perhaps too much—

but I supposed there’s worse things

than clean underwear and folded socks.

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