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the archive(s):
issue no. 6:
This is a Laundry Song/ Michelle Dabrowski
Can you tell it's my first time in the Buanderie Albert?
How I enter all disgruntled
Plodding lavadly behind you
The way I hesitate on which machine to choose
eyes bubbly overflowing
And how I fill up my cup with detergent so decidedly
The way i can't be arsed to separate the colours from the lights
washing away the clenched sight
of my warm palmed coins in cycled loads of monthly inhibitions
which I inverted overthere through the change machine
"For customer use only"
And how the glare of the wall of dryers
lures me like a mechanical swooshing symphony
As you curiously stare at my dirty underwear
as if yours are immaculate when you bring them here?
25 Cent innocence
in a whole afternoon on perma press while
tides of fear ingrain in the stains sloshing dirty shreds
which shouldnt be seen by strangers, no
on display through the netted disbelief while
I'm walkin through the streets
Why is it that I can find such pleasures
in rinsing, draining, drying fibers I will not wear forever?
Pressing my shirts to my face
inhaling pride softeners
my mind folds
a wonder of where I'll wear
this cotton pressed to my body next
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