I’m going to try a couple of poems again. I haven’t had much luck with poems. These two are short simple ones. The back slash identifies the line break. Hope they’re at least fun. Thank you for your readership.
He left his table and chair./The cushion jumped back to its swell/the table stood at attention on iron legs./ He looked back before gathering the steering wheel of his red car/as if he could see everything over the dash./He could see the people inside/laughing over lattes./ He was certain they were laughing at him/although he had dressed carefully/choosing colors that dimmed him./ His hair was combed flat./ He knew they still caught his fear/which he took with him/leaving his seat/empty.
Elevators are Somber Places
Three inches from my left hand/hangs the beeper off the belt/of the man with the silver tie./His boldness rivals the cameo chocker/of the skinny woman with large breasts/whose shirt dips in a V and knots at her waist./The beeper bursts into song./The six of us plus the seeing eye dog/continue to stare/straight ahead with vacant looks./The door opens on the third floor./The blind man leaves us/to study our reflections on the metal door as it closes./Our faces are grim; stamped portraits of people unconvinced that speaking/would be a move toward friendliness.