|
| |
First Day
I wonder who’s in charge of our section.
The anxiety about who will lead me,
brings on a cold sweat.
Her sweater is tight.
I turtle-neck,
over my sanitized cubical.
Small breasts, tiny and hard in the frigid light.
Her spectacles add no color to the sterility.
“Are you numb?” She asks?
‘Not quite yet.”
"It’s the white precision
that examines us." She says distractedly.
"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?’
“Your crotch needs to be tighter.”
A chime goes off forever.
I wonder....
did we clock in or out?
Copyright ©
Eric Ashford
|
|