The Laundromat Fugue State

She reads to the chorus of mumbling tumble dryers,
the coins slotting, rattling, dropping,
a coffee vending machine dribbling hot brew
into new polystyrene cups, topped with milk and cocoa.
She’s unaware that her laundry finished long ago
but I can wait. She’s happily glued,
lost in the laundromat fugue state.

Originally published June 2016

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