Orion headless

Poetry, art, found objects

2 poems

by Laura Close

Slipper

Bring us slippers from China,
a skein of red silk and
blue ribbons,
upper soles of satin.
Cheerfully we walk
confident but convalescent,
hailing the hail from a distance,
in inflammable pajamas,
asleep to the national debt.

Bleach

Can you do the laundry?
Are you better at it?
No one can keep these
darned socks together.
Electricity gives clothes to
Goodwill. Memories of
Granny, showing you the
insidious washer, exist.
No one can just use
ammonia or bleach.

 

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