POEM: Repeat Cycle (or Parent's Laundromat)

Repeat Cycle

klunk klunk

shake shake

suds suds

wipe wipe

We turned the knob

And set it to 18 cycles

Long, hard revolutions

I thought that it would be

A bit automation

Some peace while the clothes did their dance

Maybe even cuddling

Between watching the outfits stir

But instead

It feels

Constant

As if we are back in the ancient past

River and rock

Current demanding we grip tightly

Having to be always vigilant

Always attentive

The new threads calling out

“Not a second alone”

Our arms tired

Our hearts worn out

And so

I sit here next to my wife

Peace disturbed between us

With other laundromat patients

Hurriedly watching their sequels

We too tired after this

To do more than fold and sleep.