Doing a Job I See Myself Doing Only in the College Years

Sorting Laundry, by Elisavietta "Weird Name" Ritchie explores the ever-exciting world known as the Laundry Room.  The speaker talks to herself for a good while about clothes and such, reflecting on the memories held within each article and its significance to her.  The woman starts off strong in the first stanza with "Folding clothes,/ I think of folding you/ into my life."  This nice little snippet of foreshadowing returns to us later in the poem, as the speaker goes back to directly thinking of her man and not just his clothes she sorts.  The irony involved in this poem stems from the fact that, although the speaker talks the majority of the poem about how much the clothes' connotations mean to her, they are simply not the same as her man in the flesh.  This is evidenced in the last stanza when she states that "a mountain of unsorted wash/ could not fill/ the empty side of the bed."  I almost found myself feeling sorry for this dutiful assumed housewife, because she does her chores at home alone and they just simply don't do it for her.  Oh, and I think he's cheating...