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Literature Text
A fluorescent light convulses
Throughout the day.
Staccato buzzing desperate
Like the erratic glances at my watch.
Every night I slouch and shuffle home,
A little less starched than before.
My model number four house
Sedately waits for me.
The front has two trees instead of one.
Sometime I want to burn it to the ground,
Other times I just want to paint it beige.
Everyone is waiting for something,
Waiting for their lottery ticket to win,
For that promised promotion,
For that talent agent to come ‘round.
I’m waiting on a Chinese food delivery
And for my life to start.
Throughout the day.
Staccato buzzing desperate
Like the erratic glances at my watch.
Every night I slouch and shuffle home,
A little less starched than before.
My model number four house
Sedately waits for me.
The front has two trees instead of one.
Sometime I want to burn it to the ground,
Other times I just want to paint it beige.
Everyone is waiting for something,
Waiting for their lottery ticket to win,
For that promised promotion,
For that talent agent to come ‘round.
I’m waiting on a Chinese food delivery
And for my life to start.
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Inspired by Office Space, Fight Club, American Beauty, possibly some other movies, and the general disdain I have for the suburbs. I spent 9 years of my childhood in the suburbs of a small town in California and I never want to have a 9-5 job (with overtime and weekends), a house in the suburbs, an office with fluorescent lights, 2.5 kids, a ridiculous commute to work, and a white picket fence. My dad was one of the lucky ones - he found a way out of that hell and we're all much happier now. But I know I don't ever want to take my chances getting ground up like so much sausage meat in a life like that.
© 2005 - 2024 Sarari
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