Paul Curtiss, US
your gray-blue eyes.
I place the flowers
on the brown sofa.
You peer at me.
Your pupils dilate.
My gaze shifts.
Your lips tremble.
Longing shadows me
out the door.
The hum of the
whirring, whirring in monotone.
Steadily, steadily it puts me to sleep.
Steadily, steadily weariness creeps.
Hypnotizing my mind, turning it numb,
repetitive whirring makes my hands grow dumb.
In a daze I sit here alone
nodding to the hum's repetitive moans.
Steadily, slowly I become
mindlessly seduced by the hum.
In a cubical my consciousness sheeps.
My thoughts herd into mindless sleep.
Their baaing and bleating succumb
to the computer’s persistent hum.
I lay my head upon my hands
And drift off into la-la land.
to the top
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