Degrees of Discomfort

Scattered laundromat magazines
tell you what you're missing
beside a dollar for college stains
Mother in her apron strings
would have otherwise washed away
after she made your bed,

but you know you'll never go back home
on Saturdays where in your Chevy,
Laura, no longer in the back seat of
with you, whose once magnum cum loudly

decided the meaning of life
was getting her MRS degree
with a PhD named Harry.