Short Washers Poems

A
jar now
mutely holds
washers and clamps,
nuts, bolts, screws, buttons, and the oddity.
It once held the dreams I dreamt and jangled
with hopes, desires
I’d saved, lost
in one
life....

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The pop corn patter of spring rain
slathering the landscape
curling the fern fronds
closing the dandelion’s ruff
gully washers 
speed through stone stream beds
marsh mallow yellow flowers
the lowlands and a misty
burgeoning peace settles over
a fresh May day....

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cars, knives, building, planes, boats, pens, computers, soda pop,  lighters, money,
jewelery, tvs, tool, stoves, fridges, blenders, forks, spoons, guns, heater, ac, belts,
fans, canned food,  batterys,  toasters, washers, dryers........  

what do all these things have in common. it's truly unnatural....

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How to replace the flapper chain? The spare toilets not flushing, so things remain. 
My master bathroom now has a slight drip. Do I need washers? Another Lowe's trip? 
I need to devise a maintenance plan or find myself a handy man.
Luckily, I still have my ex, who comes to my rescue when I'm perplexed.
His mechanical aptitude I've certainly missed.
He always come thru on my "honey do" list....

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The sock monster climbs up the waste pipe
And into your washing machine
He’ll hide up in a corner
To ensure he can’t be seen.
Then when you put you clothes in
And you’ve set the washers clock
He’ll dive into your washing
And select a single sock.
This special prize, he’ll carry off
To his secret monster lair
And share this tasty morsel
With his monster wife so fair.

© John W Fenn  03-12-2008...

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If my flesh should ever wither away
My soul will live on forever and a day. 
My good deeds and stains I've made in this world
Will cycle through forever like a washers whirl.
I will live forever...i could never die!!!
My spirit is what you loved
The flesh is for the eye.
You need not mourn nor lament
My flesh will die but my spirit will transcend.
You can enjoy me over and over like a cd or tape
In spirit i will live forever... day by day....

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I know of a man
The finest man from the Southern land
That man is my dad
He is just a small town Southern man

As strong as a bull and as old as a mountain,
He wouldn’t harm a flea and is as wise as can be
He’s as smart as a whip,
You can’t teach an old dog new tricks

He rather be working at home or at the family farm, 
Instead he works on washers and dryers every day
He drinks Heineken from some German town
Cause he truly is just a small town Southern man...

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Washing clothes
a long days job as the new wash machine mom had was too good to be used
a Maytag ringer in the basement was the clue
Hot water fills the larger washer as it went round and round
pulling out the clothes, piece by piece
gentle and carefully into the ringer 
as it sqeezed the water out
into a new tub of hot water, up and down splashing about
then into the third tub
finally through the ringer again
almost dry
to the lines outside under a hot summer sky...

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