3 May, 2026
The Laundry Room
07:00 Sunday morning
May 3, 2026: silent
The weight of the machines, massive
A wood pigeon’s endlessly, anew
interrupted phrase,
leaking into the laundry room’s silence
I feel
as though I were sitting
in a meticulously cleaned excavation
by some archaeological academy
in a distant future
or inside an enlarged model for small children
in a nursery
The lights are on,
but the large washing machines
are powerless cubes
in an absolute geometry; cold, metallic
and I am a stranger on a stool;
observer, listener, thinker: observer
The silence itself is measured,
as if inherently dignified, high-born,
where noise otherwise reigns
with its tense face
In the reasoning
that proceeds
under orderly forms
in my mind,
it is suggested
that the silence and the lack of power
may be an effect
of a winter-time automation
that does not accept Fair May
As I wait,
sitting on a stool,
I have Creativity and Taoism
by Chung-yuan Chang
in my lap;
scribbling this mood
at the back of the book,
freely existing within myself,
in a pause unexpectedly offered
in the laundry room silence,
accompanied by machines
sleeping with open mouths,
like elderly people
in a dormitory
Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin
Written on 2026-05-03 at 09:45
| Texts |
![]() by Ingvar Loco Nordin Latest texts3 May, 2026Human Perspective Kurkov (II) Kurkov Carl XVI Gustaf |
