Laundromat Sunday

I.
Had to use the quad loader for the colors.
At 8:10 every third machine is taken
But only four people are here including
The older lady in the corner
On the leather chair.
I will have to fight for dryers.
The older lady is always here, never smiling.
She never speaks.
I can't tell sometimes if she is alive.
The quad loader on extract cycle
Sounds like a turbine
Of some enormous beast
Straining to take off with an incredible load.

II.
State of the art front load washers
The sign is circa 1990.
The poster (2005) promises you balance in life
The woman (couldn't be a man) juggles laughing babe,
car keys, clothes and a box of french fries.
Uncluttered minds in a cluttered world
The snack bar is no longer
It is filled with overflow wash, dry and fold.
This man, this owner, knows his business and
Works 12 hours a day.
I see him every two weeks and do not know his name.

III.
Tweaker with phone in one hand
Wash in the other:
                                  You're foolin' me!
                                  That isn't funny!
She is impossibly thin, impossibly less than forty
But trying to look 25.
My single load washing whites is slower
Than the mighty quad loader which
Has speed to match its size. The detergent stained water
Runs down the glass like spilled milk.
The time of drying approaches.
The quad washer spins its last,
Twitching, really.
Light off (wheel stop)
And out the clothes come.