the opposite of poetry
by scott from jail

White walls without doors
lived in as never-ending necessity
Drip by drip goes the florescent buzzing light
Mirroring all without mentioning it

And there by the water cooler
A woman's hand, pulling Kleenex from a box
Wiping the red excess from her lips
A small smearing of dusty semi-cloth

An absent-minded waiting
songs droned out in the elevator
a breathing squarish cube
a day passed

Some glint of light from
the World Trade Center
soon to be departed,
like a ghost

Copyright © 2014 - scott from jail
Published: 2/6/14   ·  Author's Page   ·  Next Poem