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Stella Jun 2018
The panicked heart
Is pushing the shoulder,
  pushing the elbow,
     pushing that hinged down wrist,

In hopes that one swift motion
Will untangle the word ribbon
In neat short lines on yellowed paper

Those wings that scratch and claw inside the little cage
Bleeding the walls
Will break free to fly and feed.

But Monday mornings I take great care
The wrist is nailed tightly on the cross
All the pistons are jammed in just the right way
Come Friday night the ribbon won’t untangle
And the bird will give up, sometime.
Clare Coffey Oct 2017
Error 404 not found
I don’t know what went wrong
There is no explanation
For why crazy came along

I installed some new software
I thought that was a smart plan
Try to fix the situation
That’s how my downfall began

Press any key no that won’t work
I need a really fast escape
May be control alt delete
Will sort out this mistake

I haven’t got a back up
What you see is what you get
So deal with the disaster
There will be no update yet

Time to make another plan
Once I work out what’s afoot
My system isn’t working
It needs a complete reboot

Think I will ask the help desk
My head has started to spin
Quick hit the return key
Then recovery can begin
This is what you get when you let the day job into your poetry...
F White Oct 2015
dizzying drips in the espresso's wake
pool of foam on the counter's face

facade of daily blather
hiss of saucer's edge
rusty change scattered loose.

in this,
I find the mystery of human use.

what we're for
why we're there

the arm that pours
the lips that curve

the standing, tired legs that shout

"I serve."
"I did it." and

"I'm  f**ing out."
copyright fhw, 2015
Brittany Wynn Sep 2015
He strides up to my desk, beaming
like I'm the winning lotto
ticket he wants to rub off in his truck--
"Well, aren't you as cute as a button."

Puke creeps up my throat while
his creased eyes clearly try to
conjure the image of my naked
**** I thought I cleverly disguised
by a collared grandma blouse.
"Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?"

Heart racing from the effort to keep
my mouth shut and my cheeks
pale, I see other people
whisper, widen their eyes
at his use of "cutie" and "dearest"
while he winks repeatedly--
apparently a Morse code for
I'd-do-you-baby.

I practically feel the slime
slipping down my outsides,
but I give him a smile.
-because I have to-

— The End —