Oh Lord, was it part of the plan,
When you created woman and man
Shortly after the world began,
To have us, eons later, do laundry?
Who should we seek to blame;
For you created the serpent that came
Into Eden, the garden same,
Where Adam and Eve of fruit partook,
Then quickly hid and got – dressed.

Fig leaves and loincloths of plants,
Not nearly as good as a pair of pants,
So with booming, bellowed chants,
You conjured all manner pelts,
Skins we could wash and wear.
In pond, river, tubs and machine,
We soak and rinse to get everything clean,
Leave it all in the sun between
The ropes of our clotheslines.

Lord, here's to your fashion sense,
But some of us are on the fence.
Wash, dry, repeat makes little sense;
So, please, your next clothes line,
Be adventurous; design self-cleaning.

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