First Day

I wonder who is in charge of our section.
The anxiety about who will lead me through,
what I need to do, makes me sweat.

Her sweater is tight.
I am a turtle looking over a sanitized cubical.
Small t..s, tiny and hard in the frigid light.
Her spectacles add color to the sterility.
 
“Are you numb?” She asks?
‘Not quite yet.”
"It’s the white precision
that examines us."
"Yes."
 
Have you figured out how to fit in?”
 
“No. Please tell me.
Is there a password, a special name tag?
I am sure the one they gave me isn't working.
Should I frown as if concentrating?"
 
“Yes that might help.” 
 
“Can you give me any advice?’
 
“Yes, 
your little cold  p.... needs to be tighter”.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

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