Eavesdropping

Eavesdropping on a Thursday morning.

Twenty hours condensed into one

the clock hits ten.

This chair is tenuous

supporting buckled knees.

The will to pipe in

to a half comprehensible conversation

shows its force

against the crutch

as the chair gives out.

Hopeful wood spitting

small pieces outward

released from redundancy.

Get up.

There is nowhere

to sit here.

Steal the pen on the table

and the conversation

in a notebook

and walk cautiously
toward the exit.

They will not learn

of their vulnerability

until they see themselves

everywhere.

© 2013 d.c.p.