I tossed myself
surrendered and gave in
to raving automatic
laundromat life
leavened inside
washing machines
unevenly outside
turning seven
saving dials
twisting eleven
grave things
adding wistful soap
mixed with extra hot
time hopefully washing
my electric life
I had to bleach
tumble eclectically
scrubbed hard
acting asymmetrically
trying to aesthetically
anxiously remove
one damn spot
that bloody stain
something theoretical
marring my actual
tarred and feathered life
so I'm factually scarred
this ruddy ardent play
actually parting
stalwart curtains
fully exposing
my muddied mind
is this self necrosis
if only I weren't 
so damn blind
I picked myself
to bits and pieces
all I've left
deftly and neurotically
is a bereft bit
of splintered bone
one small piece
of bleeding soul
who knows
what more
I truly need
what could
any one
possibly ever do
I saw John
once again today
wandering that
same cold street
looking so old
John all alone
I have to wonder
where Moses sleeps
in some back alley
could Luke be snug
next to some
smug burning bush
encompassed within
some flaming
impartial house 
made from
reframed rumpus
stained cardboard
recycled shame
discarded boxes
old untamed boards
full of rusted nails
homeless old John
I have to wonder
what failed Paul thinks
how many Holy Grail times
has homeless Judas
tossed his smashed life
trying to wash
away every stain
trying to scrub
away all life's pain
maybe juggling swords
swallowing sharpened knives
speaking wooden words
refraining from regretful letters
lest there be no hope
struggling with those
utterly painful things 
those hanging trees
soulful goodbyes
things that got
too damn hot
just trying to cope
or maybe someone
a loved one
eventually drowned
somehow disappeared
this all brings
fear back to me
some washed up
hanging dream
that same brash
crude rushing stream
I've so studiously dreamt
times tangled together
exasperated by some
whirlpool dope
living broody life
being crudely free
so moody and automatic
I'm coin operated
life's own laundromat
wash me once
again this time
on cold cycle
maybe disarmingly
since I'm old then 
I'm freely recycling
purloining I'm guessing
I'll spin out
permanently pressed
so let me be
hermetically sealed
simply reveal
my hermit atmosphere
spherically address
Mark living around life
alone on some
barren ground
an isolated street
slim pickings bud
maybe you need
utter desolation
more daily pain
I've shared crucifixion
bread and wine with you
handed over cups of blood
chalices of medicine
drops of herbal tincture
verbally brewed at times
sweating newness out
a few timely
even loony dollars
shared my noon prayers
with leavened you
a few hopeful
golden shekels
but this one thing
these feckless shackles
we're both recklessly
arrested and locked in
this life of lust
our daily bread
who to trust
our daily sin
if brother moon
would tell us
true stable stories
about round tables
just how to be
together again
if father sun
would enlighten us
share grounding fables
keep things shining
curious us wondering
blessed laundromat
automatically washing
hellfire asunder
under telling shimmering
tossing all life's
spell binding blunders
into a rebellious sun
perhaps then
we'll finally see
come to understand
that making thunder
take grand lightning
brilliance and all
life's hunger pains
pondering all of life's
distressing stress
waiting to see
how much
we confess
our bonne fete
fire dance
our spiritual
veritable dress
how much
we strain
how much
we complain
want to truly know
our final destiny
want to finally hear
our moral soul
that angelic refrain
everything chorale
once I'm all
washed and dried
once I've rubbed out
all those wicked stains
maybe my stubborn soul
will chant and sing
find old Moses and John
out on that 
cold lonely street
bring them in
show them where
to place all that
lifelong bitter pain
removing that forever
along with all those
sinfully stubborn
jungle and desert stains
bury all that
sloughed off
wretched scarred skin
skins we were
hopelessly existing in
living rough times
even rash and dash
living through sin
enough cold ashes
gathered from
what remains
of that mountain
burning bush
let master Moses know
tell flabbergasted John
message every street
inform every soul 
that cast out Judas
was even blessed
beyond all those
deep canyons
hard choices
we all made
past all those
perilous mountains
feeling living pain
arranging ruthless life
still we kneel
drinking blessed truth
finding perilous freedom
from a sacred fountain
something that asperulus
naked Moses found
up on a holy mountain
that place I tossed myself
in that laundromat encounter

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