two more poems featuring the half-deflated balloon from the workplace office.



I am waiting.
Waiting for the light to flicker.
Waiting for the walls to drop.
Waiting for the half-deflated ballon to fall
Waiting for the stale office air to circulate
Waiting for microscopic dust to settle
I’m waiting for your call.


A half-deflated balloon
from a celebration
long past

drifts listlessly
bobbing and weaving
in the recirculated
air current

Still tethered to
its cubicle
human placeholder
the open cage
where “pets” can roam freely.

that damn balloon