-
The Boredom Sets In
and I begin to dream.
Flights of fancy
carry me far
Much further than I see
The place I go
is not a place on the map
but in my own head
where I make all the rules
The weather is whatever I wish
and all the creatures and people?
You’d call them strange
Some are twisted, malformed
Others have no features at all—
A jangling pull me back,
and in a voice not my own, I say:
“Division of Reclamation, Mining and Safety; how may I help you?”
the call transferred,
I hang the phone up
and return to my world,
and wait for the fog to come…
- by The Unnamed Sin |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 02/02/2011 |
- Skip
- Title: Temp Job
- Artist: The Unnamed Sin
- Description: So, I wrote this back when I was filing in for a secretary, and the company needed someone for a week. My mother works there, and she suggested I fill in. I wrote this when I was in danger of falling asleep at the desk!
- Date: 02/02/2011
- Tags: temp dream imaginary
- Report Post
Comments (0 Comments)
No comments available ...