A Lonely Figure in the Laundromat

Inside a laundromat’s drowsy, luminous window,
he sits in a dull green chair, waiting.
The low, hypnotic hum of washers and dryers
wraps around him like a lullaby for the lonely.

His eyes wander
frumpy women, dryers pressed against the walls,
an impatient wristwatch ticking in small insistence.

A worker has moved two plants
on the line of dryers beside him.
Outside, rain falls timidly,
swaying in the streetlights with the wind.
It is 8:00 PM.

Full dryers spin clothes in a heated whirl,
twisting and tumbling,
as if rehearsing the passion of long-time lovers.
Empty dryers hum in quiet sympathy,
like kindred spirits waiting beside him.

He slips into fantasy:
at home, he folds his wife’s shirts
soft, downy, arranged just so.
Perfect.

Reality sharpens.
There is no wife.
This laundromat is an asylum
where a lonely man passes time
in a hard, ugly chair.

Time slides past under fluorescent and neon,
until he hoists his sack,
steps into the rain,
and begins the long, silent walk home.

At 9:17, a young couple bursts past,
carefree, laughing,
splashing puddles under a streetlight,
their joy ringing through the night.

He shifts his sack from shoulder to shoulder,
steps through waves of rain slapping the leaves,
listens to their voices fade
into distant thunder.

Lights glow in windows along the street.
Home will be dry, quiet,
and a solitary chair will wait.

Author's Note

Thank you to those of you who read this.

Reviews

[redd Brick Keshner]

Ah yes! Been in similar occasions such as this and that scream just wants to let out. It's amazing what can be put to words. Ans this is a fine example of putting meat and flesh to the bare bones. Much enjoyed and filled with empathy and compassion, solidarity as well with the poetic persona. /Freds.

[Relic]

Thank you, Freds.

[Ken e Bujold]

the slow meticulous build of this poem is quite tantalizing. the opening stanza had me thinking war memorial, the second an old lonely man (not exclusionary to the first), then the third shifts the thoughts ever so slightly to a voyeur, which is shifted yet again with the next 3 tumblin' stanzas that leave one thinking of a harried husband (perhaps an ailing wife) that is finally exploded with the concluding V's exposure of a sad lobo with nowhere else to really go. A splendid journey you fashioned here my friend

[Relic]

Thanks very much for the comment, Ken.

[Moonie]

The picture that you have added reminded me of the game "stray" which is one of the most adorable games I've played. It basically has a stray cat as the lead in a decaying dystopian town that has been cut off from the outer world. Throughout the entire game, we see no glimpse of the sun or the sky, and the whole game is set in deserted neon-lit alleys. I think that visual goes really well with your poem.
Laundromats can be incredibly eerie and lonely, and you've painted that uneasiness and forlornness very well. Doing laundry has to be one of the most mundane tasks and sometimes just the sheer monotony of everyday life is enough to make a person go crazy. There are so many great lines in here. I really liked the comparison of the clothes to passionate lovers. The line where he fantasizes about opening his wife's drawers is really cheeky lol. Great writing!

[Relic]

Thanks so much for your comment on this, Moonie. I appreciate the time you took to read and leave your thoughts. :)

[Fran Marie]

A tale within a poem, an interesting
piece on how some people live a humdrum
boring life, they create a pretend existence
of happiness ...nicely written

[Relic]

Thank you, Fran.

[Dara]

There is something very lonely about a laundromat although I have noticed some are starting to include snack bars etc. Could be a great place to meet people but it never happened for me. I enjoyed your write immensely! You have a beautiful way with words.

[Relic]

I appreciate your thoughts, Dara. Thank you very much.

[Coyote Poetry]

This is story telling my friend. I love how you described the location and the thoughts. You took me in and you held my attention till the last word. I did enjoy this tale.
Coyote

[Relic]

I appreciate your thoughts, Coyote. Thank you. :)

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome Relic.

[John the Baptist]

And I thought I had a dull life! This poor soul has to go to a laundromat to get whatever meager socialization might be there. I sincerely hope this guy is fictional. Otherwise, I'd suggest a suicide watch.

[Relic]

haha, part fiction, part me, John. And don't plan suicide anytime soon. Thanks. :))

[Light and ashes]

Wow! Poor guy!
What a painful, but amazing write!
I've never read the stagnant and unmemorable life put so well into words.
You are amazing for giving this man's pain and misery a voice!
What could I possibly give this other than a 100??

[Relic]

What can I possibly give your comment other than gratitude. I appreciate the comment, thank you. :)

[Light and ashes]

You are very welcome. It deserves it.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Wow a very dark and lonely piece of poetry. I'm reminded of a time a while back where I went to a laundromat and saw an elderly gentleman sitting in a corner. I remember wondering what he may be thinking, but after reading this poem I fear I may now know the answer. A very compelling piece Relic.

[Relic]

Thank you, Carlos. I didn't expect anyone to notice this. :) It comes with a little experiences of my own.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

You are not alone my friend. Watching that elderly man made me feel that he and I had a lot in common not just washing our clothing in silence alone.