Eugene von Blaas, Italian
“That’s It. You’ve Insulted My Fabric Softener For the Last Time. You Wanna Go? Let’s Go,” 1899
Oil on canvas
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/// The Laundress, so shapely and flirty,
will in public air laundry that’s dirty.
Here she twists clothing dry,
but her soap’s made with lye,
so she’ll have rough, red hands before thirty.
/// When she’s washing she works up a sweat,
so she rolls up her sleeves. She’d regret
if her blouse should get soaked—
nearby men are provoked,
‘cause the cloth turns transparent when wet.
/// Other laundresses often would josh
that she acted and dressed far too posh.
Was she putting on airs?
Having torrid affairs?
Well… it all would come out in the wash.
/// Once she dreamt of becoming a singer
for the wealth and acclaim it would bring her,
but the critics all snubbed
her, so singing was scrubbed.
She had really been put through the wringer.
/// The girl’s agent had been very keen
that by top music critics she’s seen.
This was something he said
so she’d come to his bed.
She can’t sing, so he had to come clean.
/// See the socks through her open-toed shoe.
The girl’s stockings are certainly blue.
But she’d find it quite shocking
to be called a “blue stocking.”
(She has got a sub-average IQ.)
/// Grapes and laundry both swirl in a vat,
and she tucks up her skirts just like that
because stomped grapes are juicy.
(We all watched it on Lucy
when she slipped and fell down on her prat.)
/// Should the laundress be using her tub
to make wine and for clothing to scrub?
Every wash is dyed pink
and the wine they would drink
has a soapy foam winos would snub.