Corporation

After a three day weekend...

It managed to cut the breath out of the song -
Even the sweetest song
That lifted me above the empty world.
It managed to get a tight hold on my throat
Even my raging throat -
The spewer of rebellious words.
I stood at the great cliff and looked straight down
And the soft wind became a hurricane
To shove me over.
And the shining sun became an oven
To burn my skin and evaporate my tongue
So I could not speak
To them of higher things.
And the sweetness became bitter
And rotted the apples on even the strongest trees.

I had to go to work at three.

Reviews

[PianoandPage]

hah. i really love this. coincidentally i wrote a piece on a similiar tack, "800".

you did a great job of conveying how sometimes a job can transform our perceptions and make even the things that normally nourish us and shine in beauty horrible and unbearable.

great write!

"And the shining sun became an oven
To burn my skin and evaporate my tongue" - fanastic image!