Cubicle

Relentless jingle jolts me on

third ring; silence falls; brutalized ENTER

jabbed with furious resignation. Tea mug with

disappearing Tardis settles, ChapStick

teeters. Dancing dust motes softly

land on bright monitors.

Red velvet cup-

cake walls.

 

Creased newspaper Ray Lewis taped

to Inbound Bin. He roars, I roar; partnered

silently. Does the design of my tissue box

reflect me as an individual?

I must not drink the water. Too

many women getting

pregnant. Printing

labels 

 

on LF, Jr. Please, do not

print. Thank you. I miss Face plant, but little

Napoleon stapler still keeps me company.

Vortex of passwords behind my eyes shoot

down my arms, through my fingertips.

Check voicemail. Member since

two-thousand ten.

Dust stained

 

addition machine. I laugh when

someone asks for my Productivity

Report. Key Employee awards tacked in a row

behind a note that reminds me fūtō

is ‘envelope’ in Japanese.

There will be rushes on

the 12pm

file.