Exit Strategy
I’m the child of two hands on a clock that
chewed keys and pens of scribbled insanity to fret over
Deadlines that flip columns on a board
like somersaults into the sea.
Polyester and pantyhose that thread into a cage
Working 9-5 like a robot that might be hunted &
Smoked out for spare parts.
baby of a pair of eyes
Birthed in a field passed yesterday on
a morning commute.
22:00 in a seat tonight clicking along to
The sounds of the others in skirts who ignore the hands. ones that rest on the wall while their fingers work. too many of them with clenched coffee cups
that carry the amalgamation of a silver name card at a fancy convention. as the execs wave them away
knocking hours of paperwork to death as they return to being curtains.
coming home cradling
the only passage of time she can love.
sinking into workplace oblivion doesn't kill the soul.
It grinds and propels it.
About the Author:
Emmanuelle Kramer is a Chinese-American high school writer from Philadelphia. Her work has been recognized by the Alliance for Young Writers. In her free time, she enjoys making films and learning foreign languages.
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