meaningless.

hey dad.
when you smoke in the laundry room
the clothes smell like smoke.

and then i have to wash them a billion times,
so that my favorite red sweater stops smelling
like a marlboro.

and by the third consecutive wash, when it
finally doesn't smell like an ashtray,
i've had over an hour to think up awful, painful
things that i would like to happen to you.

and i know that you don't care about red sweaters
or how a marlboro smells, but i do.
it'd be really neat if you could just step outside,
or stop buying them.

thanks.