Futurecast
A sirocco greeted me
rushing past in heated blasts
my maps had ruined her weekend.
I sought the cool glare
of the new receptionist
only to be buffeted by
the nor’east gale
emanating from the office
of the station manager.
I gazed into the future
cast my lot with Wednesday
“warm, sunny, idle breezes”
Repeating it every hour
on the hour.
A flood of complaints
deluged the station.
I left the building
in an elevator
“partly rowdy
with no chance of shame”.
3/28/2022
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2022
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