Laundromats are cloisters, mechanized miracles:
   the monotonous -- nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
                                       as colors tumble and roll 

Everyday portals to a singular world
           where soft whites and colors gently enfold,
                 converse in that fabulous new tongue of Fabrica,

Denim, Wool Blends, Cotton Colors,
   and even the outcast Polyester
            from the deep marshland state of Petroleum

All the tribes gathered neatly on the table lands
   where tales are spun, well-warn yarns
                           of drought and ancient flood

This polymorphous spin lifts our ladders,
                so lively it is this talk we thought might shatter
                      the plight of the low-lucks that tumble in

Yet for all this, the power of tokens still calls the drum --
                 the boom, boom, boom,
                       and click, click, click of the Zippered Tongue

Fearful in the tumbling dark, we fold
           our clothes, drape the human dream
               and hope, hope, hope we diffuse our damaged drum      




Copyright © 2005, KRS, Kris Ross, Kristen Ross Swanguarin

For me there are too many familiar-sounding phrases here. I don't want to say "cliches," but that's what comes to mind.

"well-warn yarns": you mean "well-worn," right?

Kris:

I read this poem yesterday and thought, "This is nice."  Among its enjoyable elements are:  the metaphors, the onomatopoeia, the sporadic slant rhyme, the 'back and forth' layout, and the manner in which the piece seems to speak to the "damaged" condition of humanity in the face of modern ("mechanized miracles") as 'washing machines'.

In this vein, these lines (and others) are delightful:

"Fearful in the tumbling dark, we fold \ our clothes, drape the human dream."

While I understand Jay's query about "well-warn yarns," I suspect you directed the word "warn" to calamities such as "droughts and floods," along the lines of 'prophecy' foretold (as in the poem's "tales are spun" verbiage).

One suggestion:  The poem does a great job of taking readers to your 'laundromat'.  For this reason, I would change the title (omitting 'laundromat'). 

The spin cycle is now complete.  :)

CEO

I liked the low lucks tumbling in.  Good writing, although there are places where the flow is hindered by some of the word choices.  I am curious about how often you write poetry. 

Thanks for sharing, Kris

Jay, Carrol, & Desiree,
Thank you all for your comments on my poem.
I would have responded sooner but I am having computer woes at the moment and can't reliably get or stay on line.  A new computer should be up and running in a couple of weeks.

Please give me specific examples of a well-worn phases or word choices that you do not think works here. I'd like specifics.  This is a working document.

Carroll had a great and obvious point about the title. Thanks.  And yes, Jay, I did mean 'well-worn.' I'm too pedestrian to imagine an intentional play on spellings, such as Carroll creatively came up with. I'm a terrible proofer but I did intend those capitalized unheard of tribal states. 
 
In this poem I wanted a loose conversational tone with its vicissitudes of starts, false starts, stops and occasionally less then poetic word choices.  Some may object to this but reading it out loud in its own rhythms seems to work for me but I am never beyond considering sound ideas for strengthening the poem. I don't mind a well-worn phrase so long as it is not worn-out and does nothing to advance the poem.

Desiree asked, how often do you write poetry?  With rare exception, every day but not always poetry.  Some poet, I can't remember right now, said we don't know if any poem we write is poetry and we won't ever know.  I agree.  I  write each day, usually mornings, because I am compulsively engaged with words.  I constantly hear latent connotations and want to see where they lead. Poems are like children (mine are 8 & 9), you don’t know if they will turn out to be truly human but you keep investing in them despite all signs to the contrary.

Again, thanks so much for you insights.

I reckon you'd like "Mrs Bartolozzi", that song on the new Kate Bush album with the chorus "washing machine"... worth having a listen and fairly relevant in the washing-machine-metaphor field.

Thanks to Lotus for bringing this back to the washing machine scene.   
It smells of better than average soap.

d