she likes the color yellow

laundry day

laundry,
so clean,
so crisp.

the cycles, repetitious,
but that's the point.

the machine is loaded.
the laundry,
shoved in evenly.
too much is bad.
spread it out,
or bad things
will happen.

the dial is spun.
the hole fills.
water soaks the clothes.
mommy pours soap,
the bubbles half way.
on wet fabric, it foams.
the lid closes.

it will take 15.

we wait sipping cocoa.
we play cards.
we laugh and sing.
mommy is crying.
jake is eating cereal.

it buzzes scaring us.
mommy gets up
we follow,
her disciples.
she lugs the clothes out.
they're heavy
and cold.

she puts them above
in the hairdryer.
there is a cup,
it holds bluish fuzz.
dust lands in the trash.
mommy throws in paper.
the door closes, on.

it will take 30.

we drink water.
we play dominoes.
we eat oreos.
mommy likes the cookie.
jake likes the filling.

jake asks mommy
if daddy will be home.
mommy says no.
tears fall.
jake asks mommy why.
mommy says something,
but jakie is confused.

divorce.
mommy smiles.
she wanted it.
why cry, mommy?
it still hurts.
you will know
when you are older.

the machine buzzed.
it makes mommy happy.
she smiles
and walks skipping.
divorce is happy
and sad.
mommy is confusing.

she pulls the soft out,
carrying them.
they fall everywhere.
mommy teaches us folds.
she shows us shirts.
she shows us socks.
she shows us pjs.

jake folds pants,
but mommy says
it goes on a hanger.
mommy doesn't fold
her shirts for work.
they have waves
and creases.

mommy gets a board
and iron.
it gets hot,
she says.
she presses and smooths.
mommy is good at this,
her shirts hanged.

but mommy,
why don't we get iron?
your clothes have no
wrinkles.
wrinkles?
yes, imperfections;
it's unprofessional.

she puts clothes away.
she doesn't cry.
we store in drawers.
we hang it on bars.
mommy sings a song.
jake sings along.
i dance too.

jake asks a question,
are we wrinkles?
mommy says
no, we are perfect
i ask her a question,
are you wrinkles?
yes, adults are wrinkles.