Sunday, 31 March 2013

The Laundromancer


She came into my kitchen
In the middle of the day.
I turned around, to grab some beer,
And on the floor she lay.

A woman, of advancing years,
All robed in purple tartan.
'What's going on? And who are you?'
I've come to help you Martin:

I've heard your job is kind of crap;
You're mocked by all your peers.
The worse part of the lot is that
You've not had sex in years.

I'm here to help you out with that –
But no, not in that way!
I've come to turn your life around!
She said, from where she lay.

Of course, I'll introduce myself,
To show you I'm no chancer.
I've come to read you fortune, Mart.
I'm a trainee laundromancer.

'I see,' I said. This was a lie,
But what else could I do?
A laundromancer sounded daft:
It clearly wasn't true.

'How will you turn my life around?'
I enquired with a snort.
I'll read your moistened underwear
There came her quick retort.

Some read your tea leaves from a cup
And others deal in entrails,
I prefer a washing machine
To uncover all the details.

There's much that can be gleaned from this
Most delicate of arts.
Much turbulence I see for you:
Your scores are off the charts!

And so we sat, and stared into
The swirling soapy depths.
She waved her arms and shouted loads –
It really was complex.

On hands and knees, I crouched by her
And stared into the drum,
Feeling genuine remorse
For what I had become.

The movement of your t shirts there
Suggests a new career.
The swirling of the jeans, it means
You should fetch your guest a beer.

With can in hand, she carried on,
Predicting all my fate.
I would be rich and famous too
So things were looking great!

But then, she screamed – a mighty noise –
And wrenched open the door,
With pants and water spilling out
On to the parquet floor.

My dear, you have the pirate's curse!
She whispered, wet and shocked.
She pulled some fabric from the pile
You're cursed by this Black Sock.

I turned away, to get a mop,
But by then she was gone.
It took some time to realise
She'd conned me all along.

I should have known she was a fraud,
All robed in purple tartan.
She stole my wallet from my coat,
And my name's not even Martin.

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