Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

Walls

In the afterlife of a workplace
I wake up at night and recall
what once felt larger than me,
and I sneak peek at the papers
that blanketed my days
composting, meaningless now,
within the barriers of the walls,

walls slate gray,
as they change colors
according to who toils inside,
a cubicle,
mine had festered
into a shiner’s purple where
I crafted dreams
amid griefs and longings
amid talking-tos and clocks ticking
amid my futile attempts
to forget the world.

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prompt: an office setting, or office politics