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now it's used for yardwork - nick geisler lyrics

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i press out wrinkles with giddy pleasure
in boxers: fold, tuck, crease out
every imperfection with rhythmic intensity

the reordered threads rise up on unmade sheets
i attend to each arm of each shirt, feeling the cloth
& embossed ironies /teams /movies; a shirt
reversed, tucked and folded like momma
taught me. she bought me the t-shirt
and i press the crags and bunched-up
collars of laundry left in the bin
past due – clothing unhampered until
the cool fabric clenched into a dry ball

halfway through a shirt i pull out
5 dollars and a receipt for two
chinese chicken combos
i toss the receipt, tuck the rest
in my wallet, casually smooth, tuck
and fold the shirt again and again

this won’t clean the room
but still – momma’d be proud – she cleaned
like a whirlwind winter storm, reordering
stained autumn messes while we slept
‘cause because is a far more textile word than
we think, pr-ne to lint and burn marks and
gr-ss and mud and booze and blood and yes
love. and sometimes an unwashed wrinkle
caked in her smell, tucked in the folds
of some fabric imploding in the corner

- nick geisler lyrics

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