Paper Poetry
Published in

Paper Poetry

A woman hangs with clothes on a line across a billabong
Billabong photo by Raine Lore — Clothesline by Saydung89 from Pixabay

It’s Washing Day

Where the heck did I go wrong?

Five years ago me washer broke
And though I wed a lovely bloke —
Been outa work for all those years,
Now rests on sofa swillin’ beers.

So, on Mund’ys — just once a week,
I traipse along the bubblin’ creek
Singin’ lament — “Dead Washer” song
Lug laundry bag to billabong.

Rubbin’, scrubbin’ dirty undies —
Cripes, it takes a month of Sund’ys!
How many jocks can one slob wear?
It’s ‘nuff to make me rip me hair!

When his are done, I start me own,
And dream of ownin’ mobile phone,
A washer, dryer, jet named Lear,
Shoulda snagged me a millionaire!

When dreams and rinsin’ all is done,
I hang gruds up in blastin’ sun,
Resigned to life that’s livin’ hell,
I get to hang meself as well!

“Gruds” = undies

Carolyn Hastings blames the prompt on Daniella Montage. That’s pretty random!

Read it, loved it — radical randomness, Daniella!

Thalia Dunn turns random nothingness into beautiful somethingness. Wait! Is that even a word?



We are living in the digital world, covered in the autonomous aspects & tracked motions of life. Yet, somehow we are losing some critical elements. Keyboards, touchpads, & speech-to-text are there, but we believe that handwritten words on paper is still meaningful to some poets.

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Raine Lore

Raine Lore


Independent author on Amazon, reader, graphic artist and photographer. Dabbling in illustration and animation.