Folding Clothes
pulling wooden pegs off stiff
white T-shirts
everything smells clean and cheap somehow
like bleach
and my face is hot because I believe
everyone passing is looking
knows
I wash my clothing in the bathtub
and yours too
I fold clothing to the
afternoon news
lottery numbers and car wrecks
knows
I scrub and brush and polish
to Nashville Skyline and later
Nighthawks at the Diner and I’m hungry for
breakfast all day
knows
I have seven dollars for groceries and three hours
to look pretty and cook dinner
set out dishes
make the bed and forget that you said
all of the things we will do when we have money and
time
and remember to run my fingers
along the window sills and tend to the potted
geraniums
—EVIE CHRISTIE
(Originally published summer, 2003.)
