The Isolation Booth (30/30 #8 NaPoWriMo)

Suddenly opaque
My breath obscures
Fingers pressed firmly against the glass
Their trace appears and vanishes just as quickly
Gazing comatose
I know they see me
Looking outward among the cubicles
Extreme dysfunction

I travel down a corridor
And yet the glass follows
Taunting me
I arrive upon a row of windowed offices
Beacons of light beckoning
Surely this must be where wisdom lies
I enter only to be disheartened
Finding nothing but hollow vessels
Extreme dysfunction

I set forth in search of the wheel
Having left no stone unturned
I concede it must not exist
I commence to it’s construction
A passerby questions
Why I am in the business of reinvention
I ask that they direct me to the prototype
They appear bewildered by the request

I pound my fist against the glass
Each gasp sucked into a vacuum
Oxygen depleting
I am forced to accept
The futility of my struggle
I shout but the world is deaf to my cries
The shell kisses my skull
Splatter-painting the glass a crimson hue


2 thoughts on “The Isolation Booth (30/30 #8 NaPoWriMo)

  1. Tom Rubenoff says:

    Nice! You were right, I do like it 🙂

  2. Angelisa Austin (Empress) says:

    Very intuitive insight on the nature of things in life. I wish you all the best. Thank you for sharing this link and your talent.

    Angelisa Austin, Graphic Artist and poetic designer 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: