Those cubicles down on highway six
how do those people fit?
The doors are oblong
surrounded by
four-foot cubes of concrete split.
Picasso, I thought
had inspired this lot.
No door on one –
how shall they come home?
Inside, imagine there,
cubes every which where.
Even what’s circular,
is the form of a square –
even the glasses
and crooked rocking chairs.
Just a wee bit of light
from small rhombi, not bright.
The chandeliers – they’re diamonds
no ovals in sight.
Even the outlets
look like robots not faces,
and shoes with no laces
with Velcro and heels
all 90-degree angles.
Living here,
you’d surely fear
children born with
Pikachu ears.
All words in CAPS locked
in each book and magazine
stacked, blocked
and every word is shouted
even the whispering.
Never could live there
or I’d find myself mumbling, scared
inside cell with square pads
in a straight jacket plaid.
– Sandra Johnson, 6/26/21
(from photo prompt – hour 7)
Such round words, love your imagery. Fantastic poem.
Thanks Amanda- this one is in my top five.
I love the imagery and attention to detail in this poem! Everything is considered, from the lights to the letters, portraying the unnatural “robotic” feel of industrial architecture. The language as a whole is beautiful.
Thank you so much!
I used this same picture prompt and wrote something that did not please me. You definitely made better use of the prompt, even catching some of my thoughts but expressing them better, more poetically. I love this and trying not to envy your skill.
Thank you!
Nice ❤️ I could imagine each square inch. ♥️👏♥️