dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: paper cut

Powerful as the new day,

The past lingers

On pungent breath.

Intense as last week’s

Coffee spill,

Memory lapses keep staining,

Polluting the gray office air.

Never a clean break,

Awake, asleep,

Every sunrise with its shadows.

Slips of paper slide out of your mouth.

You laminate them beneath your tongue,

Then shoot them out when I pass by.

The shiny gliders land at your friends’ feet;

They send back papers glossed with their condescending glares.

I stare at the concrete scroll beneath my feet.

Engraved with spindly cracks and inlaid with cigarette butts,

Its rough, weathered surface holds me up.