The Five O'Clock Whistle

We’ve lived to kill another day-

Buried,

under jumbled sheets of cheap paper,

piled high,

this cardboard coffin.

These should have been doodles,

sketches, or love notes.

Paper airplanes would have been more useful.

Oh, to be set free.

Wasted words become

unread memos

become files that

become archives.

We should have built houses out of the boxes.

We build more boxes to store more boxes.

Outside of these boxes,

nobody knows.

Russian nesting dolls that comfort no one.

When we reach our destination, will the station still be there?

Am I wasting time,

or,

is time wasting me?

The grass is always greener.

We’ve clear-cut

as far as

the naked eye can see.

The Five O'Clock Whistle

bigbambino

Joined April 2010

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

After a long day/week/lifetime at a job that I hated, I strung together this beltfeed of disgruntled bullets.

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