THE DRYER

Dirty Washing
by Lorna Obunike

Wild frantic eyes and an iron fist
Jamming the lift door back open

She spat out her words in a panic
Only just comprehenable
But I followed her anyway
The Washing Machine wouldn't start

She was a small but tough woman
Smelling of fags and alcohol
Wasting away in addiction
Like dirty washing spinning round

I turned on the machine with ease
And wondered why it was so hard
Her hands trembled, balance impaired
Doesn't she get sick of spinning?

Around and round and round and round
'Wash yourself, dry yourself out!'
I wanted to shout, shake her up
Pull her to pieces inside out
I smiled and walked away
Wishing her luck.

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Barton Hill & the Masterplan Blues
by Steve Field

Well we never felt more like singing the blues,
Cos we won all this money - but we could still bl**dy lose,
In Barton Hill we've got The Masterplan Blues.

Well our pleasent greenspace is an urban oasis,
And its no place for roads and more housing spaces,
In longlands we've got The Masterplan Blues.

The playground, the grass and our beautiful trees,
The quality of life that we all get from these,
In Corbett we've got The Masterplan Blues.

Well we never felt more like screaming mistake!,
Cos its our kids playground that their planning to take,
In Beaufort we've got The Masterplan Blues.

Well we never thought more like crying all night,
Cos their masterplan it ain't treating us right,
In Harwood we've got The Masterplan Blues.

Well we never felt more like joining the fight,
Cos to steal our greenspace's - won't be morally right,
In Ashmead we've got The Masterplan Blues.

Well we never felt more like enough is enough,
So we're not gonna take this - yes its time to get tough,
In Barton we've got The Masterplan Blues.

Well we don't intend to taking these plans lying down,
We've got our respect and so we'll stand our ground,
On Barton hill we've got The Barton Hill Blues.

Well let's pool our ideas and unite for the fight,
To scrap these daft plans - we will show them we're right,
In Barton hill their MASTERPLANS GONNA LOSE!!,
On Barton hill we won't be singing the blues.

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Untitled
by Mair

Folly of pretentious words
Empty, tinkling echoes -
Mere shadows of the truth

The mind struggles to escape.

Thoughts unfettered,
explore paths unfamiliar,
leap over obstacles
and fearlessly encounter the unexpected.

Dive into the depths
and endure the pounding waters
that wear a pebble smooth.

Exposed and vulnerable
yet eager to understand.
To experience the joy and the pain.
Touch the stillness and the peace.

Too good - the bad
all part of the same
and I am part of the whole

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I do my laundry once a week
Whether rain or shine or if it is pretty bleak

I struggle downstairs with lots of loads
Oh God I wish I had money to by new clothes

Depending on the soiling I choose low, medium or high
And sit and wait whilst an hour goes by

I'm alone in the laundry so I can express myself
I sing, I dance and God knows what else

Whilst shopping for washing powder this week I was encouraged to buy Bold
As the advert said my clothes would no longer look old

Whilst unloading and popping a load into the dryer
I noticed hanging on the drum was my bra wire

Then who burst in Derek and Shirley
Always arguing and always so early

Oh shit I've lost another sock but at
Least my washing's clean and soft

They should have a warning "Woollen garments do not dry"
If I shrink another jumper I think I'll cry

Permanent press is always the best
When you get home you have time to rest

Sitting in this laundry for two sodding hours
Has come up roses cause my knickers smell of flowers

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My Belly is Growing Bigger
by Lorna Obunike 16/08/05

I was one
Then I was two
Now I am three
How long before I am four?
My belly is growing bigger
Just like my washing pile
One machine per flat
How can my washing fit in that?

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The Care-Taker Can
by Jon Wisby 16/08/05

Who can come and beat the queues
Who has the power to pick and choose
Who can utilize his key
When ever there is a time slot free
Who can buck the rostas plan
THE CARE-TAKER CAN

Who can wash at three a.m
And take his time every weekend
Who can get his bed sheets clean
And not have to wait for a free machine
Who can adjust his time and plans
THE CARE-TAKER CAN

Who can stay up and wash all night
To make his boxers clean and white
Who can rise above the rest
Of his neighbors who aint so privileged and blessed
Who can take more than his fellow man
THE CARE-TAKER CAN

Who can wash and dry and spin
In the wee small hours at a whim
Who can make his weekends slip by
Watching clothes and soapsuds fly
Who can wash when he likes, and not give a damn
Not you friend, but the caretaker can

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