2000/darks

A load of darks
soaking.
The dryer running.
Dishes washing.
I could start
a print job,
just for the sense
of satisfaction
the sound
gives me.
Machines.
Sometimes I wish
there could be
more of them.

I like machines
that run on their
own. Not the kind
that involve me,
their vibration
shattering my flesh.
Electric current
in my veins.
I like the ones
that leave me
free to sit
and write,
while the work
gets done,
my morning music
punctuated
by the shirt buttons
clicking against the dryer
wall.

2/12/00