Monarca Rising

Our Lady of the Laundromat

by Carmen H Gray

Unwashed towels

Sweat-soaked linens

All the grime hidden

In the stains

And the dirt

On my favorite skirt

Belies her purity

Our Lady of the Laundromat

Where you cannot get your money back

Even when the machine is broken

Your clothes all soaked in

A cathartic lather

And then, just like that

She snaps

And the cycle goes on

Cleaning the grit gone

The disappearing smudges

Relinquishing the grudges

Of yesterday’s drudges

And the cycle goes on

Our Lady of the Laundromat

Living, Labor

Clothes that need mending

Loner sock that needs lending

It is neverending

But tomorrow is another day