02-11-2014, 06:50 PM
The balding pool of yarn waves to me,
Bye friend.
Going home already?
Scrubs drag lazily across the floor
through the room thick with dandelion seeds.
The man in the office
hands me my bag of clothes
and a checklist for review.
The pudding man asks for chocolates
and receives animal crackers instead.
One does not know of
technological dependency
until they’re stuck in a zoo with a dead cell phone.
Holding on to the receipt,
with three sets of numbers
hastily scribbled with eyeliner and a sense of desperation,
like an infant on the cord,
I reach for the wall
by the window, overlooking the city
in orange.
The phone is salmon pink
like Karen’s fingernails.
Three ghosts watch me from their table
their eyes like coal in the snow of 1942.
The sickly artificial sweetness
of the ice tea from the pudding cup
sticks to my throat
like four seeds of a pomegranate.
First dial nine
to connect outside.
Bye friend.
Going home already?
Scrubs drag lazily across the floor
through the room thick with dandelion seeds.
The man in the office
hands me my bag of clothes
and a checklist for review.
The pudding man asks for chocolates
and receives animal crackers instead.
One does not know of
technological dependency
until they’re stuck in a zoo with a dead cell phone.
Holding on to the receipt,
with three sets of numbers
hastily scribbled with eyeliner and a sense of desperation,
like an infant on the cord,
I reach for the wall
by the window, overlooking the city
in orange.
The phone is salmon pink
like Karen’s fingernails.
Three ghosts watch me from their table
their eyes like coal in the snow of 1942.
The sickly artificial sweetness
of the ice tea from the pudding cup
sticks to my throat
like four seeds of a pomegranate.
First dial nine
to connect outside.