low heat

all I can hear is that
goddamned apron
batting around
the dryer

a constant reminder
that we have all
been defeated
by one
thing or another

trying to speak
out against
its clotted tangle

over the slapping
strings of the
work apron
hustled
in the sheets
of another
sexless day

a constant reminder
that we’re not
becoming
what we
always
aspired to be