A casual woman sits at a jet black grated table on yet another Sunday to enjoy the last day’s reprieve from adulthood responsibilities— the heels she’d wear that bred calluses on every microscopic square inch of her feet but she’d only wear them for her superiors. Especially the ruby lipstick heels since they reflected defiantly against the drone of the basement light that flickered more than it took her to blink in order to sterilize the 9 to 5’s and occasional overtime debilitation from eyes long bloodshot and bagged. A spring green cashmere sweater embellishes her gently against the oncoming Kaleidoscopic paradigm shift from autumn’s end to wintertime’s beginning— the kind of emerald green where tree leaves are wet after a storm and the droplets house stars of the brilliant cosmos from May’s eve. With every second of every minute of every hour the woman’s heart beat hastens and lungs straggle as the ivory sun devolves into a subtle dandelion orange to signal the arrival of a Monday—weekdays of Oxycontin chugging service with no thank yous in sight to soften the blow of parasites and profiteers as they hoard three chemically touched quarters out of four and make her co-workers mince about the fourth.
Addendum: The prompt was to write a poem from the combination of words seen out in the world, hence the title, and I just went from there with some imaginative supposition. Also something I found in the old folders from 2017.
I came down with something on Sunday and not feeling too well so a repost from the earliest beginnings of the newsletter feels appropriate. I’ll be back and reading your wonderful comments and newsletters in a few days!
Hope you feel better soon!
Expeditiously expressed with red heeled delight. Sweaters stars shine with pill quarters that fill the vending mouth to tolerate the Monday morning vibes that hide the heels sore sides to reach for sky high end of terminals shut down and home for a drink.