Today’s Laundromat is FOR SALE. Its windows are empty. Nothing is in store. PLEASE WATCH YOUR STEP says the sign over the sill. But nobody crosses over anymore. Oh, wouldn’t you want to do your laundry there at Today’s Laundromat on Summer Street? Always today’s wash-dry-and-fold, never a care for yesterday or tomorrow, early or late.
Today, the house next door is for sale, too. Red roses spill higgledy-piggledy over the wall. A dresser’s been set on the sidewalk in the sun. The empty drawers stacked on the top are full of nothing to wash-dry-fold: nothing to be done at Today’s Laundromat, nothing at all to do.