In a waiting room
filled with rows of those uncomfortable
plastic, clam-like chairs
that hurt your ass
as if one has nothing else better to do
than to feel crushed tail bones and vertebrae
by unkindly gravity
pressing down its agenda
relentlessly
onto a surface
that countless others
have precariously sat upon
staring at the second hand
of a gray clock
nailed to the wall
each tick of time
reminding one
that hell is filled
with gum-popping women
with bleached hair ratted
always chewing finger nails
sighing with such world weariness
that the temptation to
accidently kick at this chair
rocking back on two legs
is almost as great
as the need
to douse this room
with a chemical bouquet
of flowery poison
from a can of air freshener
little invisible tendrils
gathering the offensive odor
of some fat man's loose bowels
hiding his shame behind
a dog eared newspaper
as his guilty face screams red
with embarrassment
while stuck in a row
of like minded figures
who secrete boredom
with nervous twitches
and clearing of throats
as if any of that
seems to matter
another click of the second hand
on that fucking clock,
Just kill me now

mathiasthom
written 2/11/10