There’s gum on the wall,
and who knows how long it’s been here?
It’s under the example boxes of tiny detergents.
The actual boxes are behind glass—Tide,
All, Cheer. A roach runs lazy circles
around them, impressive name brands
though they are. I don’t fault the Laundromat
for having roaches. It seems inevitable
in this college town with southern weather,
the transience of us and the humidity,
our wet clothes. Pizza crusts. Gum.