Recently we bought one of those foldable grocery carts that you see old ladies pushing down the street – it has changed me so much… I couldn’t help but write a poem about it, goes a little something like this:

Before you friend,  laundry was a chore
A trip to the ‘mat = A total bore!

To carry the clothes all-the-way downhill
And they carry them up again? I guess will…

The trip would always wear me down
Washing clothes would make me frown

I needed a hand and some company
Never thought I’d find it in Aisle 3

The wheels up front are svelte &  petite
The big ones in back are straight up street!

And theoretical capacity of 250 pounds
That’s a lot of socks, shirts, undies & gowns!

I pile you high with sodden clothes and soap
and we’ll stroll right down there, no time to mope

When the machines spin round and do their work
I no longer sit there crying like an angry jerk

We laugh we cry we tell old stories
(Like the time great-great-Carty fought off the Tories)

My life is richer since we’ve taken to the streets
I’ve even started using dryer sheets!

In the end, finally, my life is complete
You’re the best dang Carty a boy could meet!

Admittedly, this was not as powerful as my earlier swan song “Lament for a Dead Cellphone” or the hauntingly beautiful  “Complainte pour un portable defunt” but I love you Carty!