The Waiting Room

I prop myself up in my chair

I fold my legs like paper

And watch projection out my window

My eyes panted in blue, grey, yellow light

I sit and watch

I am not worn or weary

I am not stretched dry

There are no urchins in my lungs

I can sit and behold these people

These marvelous, despicable people

With their raw gums and rusty smiles

Minds clouded like television

Vacant laughs over parched tongues

They die

Only when their spines collapse like dominoes

Or when their sunned legs with tar-coated muscles are too stuck to move

Their feet covered in roadside remains

Callused, worn like sea shells

Screaming and begging for rest

They are so ugly, these marvelous, despicable people

But I cannot help but smile and I watch them out my window

My muscles spun like yarn, my back aligned so well

I watch then flail about

Deteriorating in the sun and the wind and the dirt

With the grass and the water and they sky

And I wonder if that’s better

Carlie Cattelona

Originally appeared in the 2010-2011 edition of Outside In.