Ticking and clicking
my heart and my heals find a synch
that sinks even the most hopeful floating
boating bordering battle ship war fare
fuses
refusing
to give me more time
I tick tick tick toward the frontline
of Corporate America.
what does a woman
who is thrift store suit and smile by nature
and laugh like thunder
do in a world
where wit and wisdom in the form of mistakes past
are as outlawed as her naturally guffawed laughed?
And I ask … Can a zebra change her stripes?
I find myself camouflage in a sea of khaki: the colorless corporate jungle
we fumble at the feeding trough
tick tick ticking under our zebra hides
hiding from all we feel inside
looking like lions
tryin’
to simply get a sip.
I tick
and shift / uncomfortably when my true self emerges
I see my reflection in the surface
and get nervous / to be discovered at the wrong end of the food chain
KNOWING both the zebra and the lion are the same ... in that they go where the water is.
I swallow this
ticking
stripping
every explosion from my fiber
and chameleon myself khaki
unhappily
wandering in this lobby, like it is the belly of this beast
and every sense of self-awareness or inner peace
is replaced
with
BOOM!
