Defunct

My
Beautiful
Washer
Has
Gone
On
The
Fritz,
Prompting
An
Emotional
Blitz.
Bought
When
‘Granite’
Was
All
The
Rage,
The
Poor
Thing
Has
Died
Of
Electrical
Old
Age.
Now
I’m
Forced
To
Go
Out
And
Shop,
To
Select
From
The
Current
Crop.
Even
Worse
Is
The
Strain
On
My
Purse,
But
I’m
In
A
Box.
Tomorrow
I’ll
Run
Out
Of
Clean
Sox.