Get Your Premium Membership

Back Bedroom Call Centre Blues

The sound of a Crow And a creaking fence. My good morning greeting. Four walls painted white. A singer on the radio I will never meet. The DJ playing cheesy tunes for people I don’t know. Sat waiting for the next beep the back bedroom call centre blues. Is it wrong to name a spider. and what’s this urge I have to cut the grass. The fridge is to near its calling my name and I am answering dutifully. I may return to the office fat. No gig tickets booked or holidays to be took Just serenade yourself with misheard lyrics And pictures of far off beaches. These are the back bedroom call centre blues.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Reflection on the Important Things