Fresca
mocha frappacino
hippocrytachippo
hungry hungry hippo pot tomas
the guy behind the laundromat counter
is either ex-police
injured in the line of duty
when he slipped on pee in a holding cell
or part of the Michigan militia
getting hard on his assault weapon catalog
thinking of all the shit he can blow up
she lets me theorize the laundry process
analyzing my choice of fast over cheap
more quarters, smaller loads equates to quick pace
large load, fewer quarters equates to longer waiting
these are the gray plastic picnic table diaries
or confessions depending on your relational status
gotta get in a game of videos
pole position onto galaga
onto daydreaming about 80’s arcade games in my home
then getting a playful talkin’ to about things that drop bombs
and the implied violent imagery
what’d an alien ever do to you?
aliens aren’t real
they’re real to somebody
WINNER
but no loser
just squeaky clean Laundromat college town cuteness
I’m disgusted at my inability to avoid cliches
they’re everywhere
hanging from my shoulder
draped in pinstripes
windswept wall of hair served by this mornings hairdryer
being a big dyke makes this image even more pop culture
May 8, 2006