Ironing

This painting inspired me. Yuko

Ironing

When I want to float,
I become hot and heavy
and sink even deeper.
When morning news is over,
I lie down on a wrinkly cloth.
Today I confront a shirt.
If I sit still,
I could create a burn mark.
But being energized through my tail,
I just have to move ahead
along the blue stripes.

Having circled on the cuff,
I inch towards the shoulder.
My body crushes the space underneath.
The damp seam gives sizzles
and is quieted.
The shirt hovers. It cuts open its chest
and lands on the board.
While clinking the buttons,
I glide on the half side of the chest
like an aimless stethoscope.

Then the shirt flips over
and shows its back to me.
Not knowing where to enter,
I jump on it blindly.
I roll about and creak the whole back.
The blue stripes snap like harp strings
and I slip off.
I wait for collision
but the floor turns out to be bottomless.
I fall through the dark.
Sound of the stripes breaking
is heard in the distance.
The shirt is set free.
It raises its arms like a winning runner
and flies as fast as I drop.

Yuko Minamikawa Adams

First published in Stand Vol. 10 (3)

3 thoughts on “Ironing

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