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Laundromat This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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A block from your house there's a cramped parking lot
with a Subway's, a Chinese-food-to-go, a
Laundromat whose light spills out on the sidewalk
at night, and a dollar store with a sign that
lies,”'everything here under 99 cents.”
On the curb right outside of the Laundromat,
an old woman, you don't know how old's, slumped there
on the corner like a crumpled bag of chips.
Her hair is gray, spills out over her coat in
odd directions. She is a pile of clothes.
Stay back. Don't get too close. Ask her, would she like
a sandwich? A cup of coffee? Watch her look
up, shake her head “no thanks.” The quarters in your
pocket are cold black stones in your stomach, ice.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.





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