This Is Not A Laundromat Poem

There was fencing on the window,
& through that fencing I saw a man
in a hooded coat fall upon his bottom.
The man said ‘oomph’. His bottom
said nothing. He turned his head to
the left in order to cough. Before he
could cough, he noticed a bough of
organic cherries. From my own seated
position, I saw the man adjust his
seated position, in order to jiggle
his thighs in excitement. That was
about when the man began to execute
a string of flawless somersaults down
the salted sidewalk. He was a hooded
blur of tumbling smiles; he inspired
me to turn to my left. To my left,
I found a bough of Meadow Fresh
dryer sheets. I took a healthy bite
of dryer sheets. I counted up my
remaining pile quarters with the
utmost confidence. To this very day,
my mouth is free of static cling.