We miss you oneighty
Ten Days at Sea
To the Laundromat I took my clothes
To wash them clean
In those two quarter washing machines.
Ten days I was on that hard luck boat
My clothes and me we stink like goats.
Others are there just like me.
I take a chair and wait my turn.
I count ten machines against the wall.
Their glassy eyes are dirty clothes
going round and round in those soapy churns.
Long blond hair, blue flashing eyes.
Adorn the girl sitting next to me.
Not bashful a bit, ten days at sea.
I smile at her hopefully!
And we drink a Coke from the red machine.
"Hey" She says, "I must go."
"Would you mind please to watch my clothes?"
"Sure" I say, happily.
Planning ahead for later this day
I mean! Aw what the heck, ten days at sea.
Graceful she turns, quick to leave. Beautiful she is I be
hypnotized.
Her long blond hair, blue flashing eyes. Bone white teeth,
red smiling lips.
Her tight blue jeans caress curving hips!
"Wait" I say, "Which are yours?"
"Which machines hold your clothes"
"Why" She say "all of them against the wall!" " And here's
some dimes to get them dry." "Okay" I say, ten days at sea!
She clears the door out onto the street,
And with her goes one just like me.
A shrimper-man, lonely too,
Ten days at sea!
"Thanks" He says grinning wide.
Aw! What the heck. Ten days at sea.
Excerpt from
"Voyages of the Vicky Mary
(and other stories you might wish you had never read)"
By Edward A. Gard