Don’t you know how to iron?
My mother taught me
the British way, pressing
the crispness of a first appearance
on the edges of shirt cuffs
My Canadian granny would lift
country-air starch straight off the line
A Frenchman demonstrated
the naughtiest of tricks, pressing
fashion into parts seen while leaving
a haberdashery of rumples underneath
My mother-in-law instructed me
the German way, putzing
housewifely duty into the fibers
of every cotton product in the house
I am studied and fluent
in the many languages of ironing
My American self makes laundry
permapress easy and wrinkle free
Do you understand now, Husband,
the many ways to explore and press a culture
into the fine white collar of your workshirts?