Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I slipped into the walk-in cooler to escape the kitchen heat for a few minutes. I sat beneath a wine rack holding up a chardonnay chandelier with zinfandel bulbs. I'd swear I was at the Ritz if it weren't for a lemon box slowly collapsing beneath my weight. The motor to my right churned out frigid air like a 43rd floor air conditioner in a luxury suite with fresh fruit rolled in on cardboard carts. Everything was buffet style and there were no lines, just the painful thought that I'd have to leave paradise soon.
0
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 1:49 AM UTC
Workplace Paradise
I slipped into the walk-in cooler to escape the kitchen heat for a few minutes. I sat beneath a wine rack holding up a chardonnay chandelier with zinfandel bulbs. I'd swear I was at the Ritz if it weren't for a lemon box slowly collapsing beneath my weight. The motor to my right churned out frigid air like a 43rd floor air conditioner in a luxury suite with fresh fruit rolled in on cardboard carts. Everything was buffet style and there were no lines, just the painful thought that I'd have to leave paradise soon.
christopher-cizek
Written by
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 1:49 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem