Wet pegs

Photo by Airin Party from Pexels

I haven’t gotten used to the smell of my room yet

although it has my books in it

and wet laundry.

Why do I have to feel like this

craving for company and being declined

by the pegs of a rotary clothes dryer

they look like wet dead birds

hanging down

and the rain is falling

falling, falling even more deeper

into my unconsciousness

You left the country which needed you

for a smile of an elderly blonde lady and her slowcoach dog

the loneliness has been enjoyable

when self induced

And the days have been long

and the nights even longer

But I didn’t come here for love

and still believed the men

talking sweet to me

like the elderly lady smiling

and her dog, walking in the rain

I feel sorry for all the wet feet

in the world.

And I am asking myself

is there ever a day where clothes can be dried outside?

With all the rain falling falling falling

rotating on the rotary clothes dryer

falling and rotating

spinning and spurning

me

You left the people which needed you

and traded it all

for

wet laundry.