Lisa La Tourette-Pershan on the Other Side of the
9 to 5
in the confines of
inane & heartless walls
chained & hopeless in a
politically correct
ergonomic chair,
my brain has been dulled &
drilled, day after day,
like once colorful seashells
pounded by mortar & pestle
into dirty gray sand.
the minutes are long highways
traveled half-asleep,
one eye open to mumble
glassy-eyed, funeral greetings
to others you pass
at the coffee machine,
all held hostage like flies
in the same sick spiderweb.
the clock ticks closer to 5,
and, chewed & spit out,
a piece of meat, just
seconds before my soul revolts &
leaves me hanging
like a dead man from
a chandelier,
another day is finished,
allowing me to ebb & flow,
gush home, grateful water
released from a dam.
© Copyright Lisa LaTourette-Pershan 2004