Short Cubicles Poems

blank stonewall faces
  narrow-windowed cubicles
   ~ hearts tear in cramped spaces...

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The nameless 
in their ranks of cubicles
faces lit by a visual display,
numbers, 
reflected in spectacles
a list to be picked, 
like ripe cherries;
the soft flesh consumed
the empty pit spat out,
discarded.
The nameless;
harvesting
the nameless....

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the left hand can see
five possible futures
three of them don't include you
they go streaming out
in front of my sight
and I can see multiple mes
and multiple yous
running in circles
racing the other rats
wasting talents
in cubicles and
water cooler conversations
and it makes my eyes water...

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In my cubical I sit 
Strapped to perform the task for which I’ve been programmed
Molded to their way of thinking

In my cubical I sit 
Twist tied in place behind this acrylic screen
A window to those who consume others like me

So we sit in our air tight cubicles
performing task not of our own making

By Robb A. Kopp...

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I'm in a preposterous pickle
Caught up in a pitiful plight,
Hands raised in a sign of surrender
Enmeshed in a garment too tight!

I'm bleating a plea for assistance
But nobody answers my call,
As changing room cubicles whisper
'She tried on a dress far too small!'


19.02.20

Pickle Poetry Contest 
sponsored by Nina Parmenter...

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The lunchroom fart
of turbo pasta
scatters garlic teargas
laced with meaty mystery
without mercy to
flatten cubicles.

Chain-reactions
of Tupperware battles
erupt to devastate
once discerning pallets
until hobbled by stabs
of shrapnel to the gut,

prompting an exodus
of mournful bodies
propelled along that cloud
of processed misery
to wander, ashen-faced
along the concrete void....

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At 
gray fabric offices,
cubicles divide us—
turn us into
refuges
with mock privacy,
as overheard conversations
drip from lips
endlessly smacking.

Sometimes
it seems insanity
squared—
nothingness 
randomly speaking
in tongues
to cubicles
with no one there.

We 
thumb tack
individuality
loosely
to coarse fabrics—
arms stretched out
from wall to wall,
as mouths open
to mirrored
silences 
we never 
scream....

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