FedEx got us in. Scotty will beam us out. (dayglomassacre) wrote in poetry_orgy,
FedEx got us in. Scotty will beam us out.
dayglomassacre
poetry_orgy

That damned girl can't type.

In the lofty levels of the Snodgrass Building,
Connie Seahorn is eating trees.
One wrong letter, one crooked line:
one more precious sheeth of oak, murdered.

Skirts must be tailored and not show your
knobby knees. Colors of the gray family
are preferred. Hair pulled back, chignons
are the best, and lips should be worn
a classic shade of red.

The shredder is coughing
clouds of dust into the vents, shooting shards of
we expe/ if po/ no res/ and apprecia
showering onto the men in suits
pissing, their hands splayed against the tile wall.
Connie stares at their hair as they leave,
searching for fragments of
invitations coiled into the crew cuts like
flowers in the forest, the forest she is chopping down,
sheet of spoiled paper by sheet of spoiled paper.
She hopes the displaced tree spirits will interupt her dreams tonight,
hopes the nonexistent shredded shards will sprout
vines down her bosses' backs, vines that will
hold her and spank her firmly.
Action is action and she'll take all she can get.
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