The Right To Dry Poem by M.L. Emmett

When the spring mornings unfolds
sheets and pillowcases
sail in circles round the garden
shirts are hulk muscled
Tea cloths and towels flap and slap
and draw attention to themselves
Y-fronts and cotton knickers gently sway
but those lacy, silky panties and thongs
jiggle and jerk and flutter-dance
and seem alive with sensual energy

The Hill's hoist shudders
with the tidal tug of the westerly
The lines sing, stretched and taut
as the laundry carousel spins and shreds
the sunshine into golden ribbons
that shoo away the crispness of the dawn.

But in the New England spring morning
a perfect day for drying clean clothes
with wind power and energy from the sun
You need to be a civil disobedient
to put your washing on the line

The land of truth and freedom USA
has a prohibition on outside displays
of washing, especially underwear
that could undermine property valuations
or incite neighbours to crimes unnamed.

In Poughkeepsie, New York state
they declared the new ‘laundry law'
$100 fines imposed for breaching
the ban on drying clothes from porches
its seen as unsightly and a sure sign of poverty.

In Vermont and New Hampshire
reformers tried and failed
to secure homeowners rights
to string their smalls and beat the bans.

The Connecticut ‘right to dry' bill
will be reintroduced next year
as the lobbyist Martin Mador said
‘It's a novel idea... and it seems to take a while
for novel ideas to pass'

Rational debate rarely cuts the mustard
on any subject in America
so talk of global warming
and the 6% of total domestic energy
used to power electric clothes driers
is hardly here or there
to Baptist town burghers
who can spot a greenie conspiracy
when they see one.

I notice TV makeover garden shows
always remove the Hill's Hoists
and surprise the winner with white goods
including a wall mounted drier -
so convenient for the working Mum.

As I walk the dog, I notice the big spinners
are replaced by flat parallel lines
a drying oblong meant to fold away
but in their dark shadowed places
the clothes hang forgotten for a week.

We speak and sing their lingua Yankee
We invade countries and join in their wars,
We copycat their corrosive habit of lying
wear their clothes and shoes and caps reversed
We worship their drunk drivers, jailbirdy, anti-nerdy
diet diminished celebrity culture
We watch their TV and films and even criticise our own
so maybe we should prepare for the Hill's Hoist almighty
fight to the death for the right to dry.