All the fat girls in town
had congregated in this Laundromat
to giggle at a skinny hippie.
When they sat, mouths agape,
stomachs bulged more than their breasts.
Everywhere, there’s a pecking order.
The manager in her blue scarf and coat
fluttered in to chase neighborhood children out.
“They mess the place up. I don’t want them.”
Kids, kids, kids, she muttered
raking in quarters – all this bitterness
robed in garments of honey and bees.
As for me, another day,
another dollar, down the drain.
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