Four Twenty Laundry

poem, poems, poetry, writing

It’s April, Twentieth, Twenty Fourteen.

It’s Easter and 4/20.

A good day to do laundry.


George’s Spin Cycle.

Advertising the Triple LOAD in the window,

Along with real-

Looking, fake plants of some tropical origin.

Is where I land.


Sitting below a retired drift wood

Walking stick.

Under a mural of blue sky paint strokes,

Swirling cumulous clouds of Tide bubbles.

A retired walking stick.

Calling to the old woman who owned it,

and placed it above the hearth of the door.


I measure my time here,

under the fluorescent lights

In ounces of detergent and Perrier.

Perrier by Andy Warhol-

Advertised on the green bottle.

I wonder what the Artist would think.

Made famous by painting advertising.

Turning the camera from the stage.

Turning that primed revolver from the consumer.

Returning as an advertisement.


We may be consumers but

Companies feed on culture.

I say all this after two spliffs worth of

Futile attempts at catching

The perfect smoke ring,

On Snapchat.


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