I took my laundry out to iron—
quite a natural thing to do—
it had been crumpled for much too long
and I hoped I could make it look like new.
And what do you think they said to me,
as though I were doing wrong somehow;
“What is the matter? What are you doing?
What is the reason? Why do you have to?
Why do you iron your laundry now?”
I’ve put my laundry back in a bundle,
nothing could make me try any more;
but it’s not my fault if they find tomorrow
more of a mess than there was before—
And I'll go, right now, to the end of the street
and buy myself a brand-new sheet.