DOP #32 - Laundromat Rats

Laundromat Rats
by William P. Robertson

I spin-dried a load of laundromat rats
and laughed at their wretched squeaking.
Their bellies splatted against the drier tumbler,
and their fur smoldered and stunk
until not one madam remained
to hog twelve washers and pollute the place
with chain-smoke hairspray perfume.
The rats continued to churn,
clawing each others backs,
flying pop-eyed past the porthole.
I chinged in more quarters
and turned the heat to high.
My snakeskin laundry would take an hour,
and I hoped to stem the invasion
of whiny waifs and unwed mother jamboree.

William P. Robertson is a freelance writer from Duke Center, Pennsylvania, whose work has appeared in over 490 magazines worldwide. For more information about his writing, visit his website.