Welcome to My Poetry Site
47,581 poems read
“The Glass Box”
She worked in
a glass box
able to see
all the uniformed
lines of gas
pumps
in front of
her,
most people
never even
bothered
to come up
to her window
in less they
were
paying in cash
or buying some
of the outdated
snacks
sold out of
the fifteen
lockable
refrigerated coolers
carrying everything
from Cokes to
condoms
both of which
come in various
shapes and
sizes,
she liked her
little universe
here
a solo act
that let her
add her own
soundtrack
to it
today
it’s the
“DEAD KENNEDYS”
reverberating
off the inside
of her glass
walls,
not really needing
to hear the
words
most people say
when they do
talk to her
just a nod
of her head
towards the
LED display
when they mouth
the words
“How Much?”
as she then
runs their card
and sends them
quickly on their
way,
she does have
her admirers
at nineteen
and not in
school
some guys
see her as
a lost soul
not understanding
she’s right where
she wants to
be right now
not that being
able to play
loud Punk music
in a soundproof
room
was what she
wanted out of
life
but right now
it just seems
to fit
she starts her
day
at 6:00am
and can still
catch
plenty of sun
when she gets
off
at 1:00pm,
she gives the
volume control
a twist to
the right
turning it up
as loud as
it can go
when
“Holiday in Cambodia”
starts to play
her body
taken over by
the raw Punk
sound
as she puts
her bouncy
style of dance
on display
behind the glass
everything about
her
all moving in
different directions
as he stood
there
her back to
him
as he was
taking in the
moment
of beauty
youth
and music
all blended
into one
till her head
jerks in the
direction
of the front
window
where she sees
a twenty something
guy
standing there
who got lost
in her moves,
smiling to herself
as she sees
instant disappointment
sweep across his
face
as her body
comes to a
stop
and she turns
towards him,
his mouth
not moving
as he looks
through the
glass
her chest rising
as a bead
of sweat
makes its way
down her forehead
she gives him
a nod
hoping to prompt
him
to speak
he pushes two
fives
and a ten
into the metal
box
between them
she takes out
the money
still waiting to
hear
what it’s for
she has to
give him a
shrug
of her shoulders
to break him
away
from tracking
that bead of
sweat
still moving down
her forehead,
“twenty on three please”
he says
his voice cracking
as the words
finally come out
she gives him
a thumbs up
along with her
standard
thank you smile
for his effort,
he lingers for
a second
unable to think
of anything witty
to say
walks back to
his car
and pumps his
gas
her body still
moving
in his mind
as she turns
the volume control
to the left
just so she
can turn it
all the way
up again
for her next
favorite song…
Tom Allen…06-23-2018…
She worked in
a glass box
able to see
all the uniformed
lines of gas
pumps
in front of
her,
most people
never even
bothered
to come up
to her window
in less they
were
paying in cash
or buying some
of the outdated
snacks
sold out of
the fifteen
lockable
refrigerated coolers
carrying everything
from Cokes to
condoms
both of which
come in various
shapes and
sizes,
she liked her
little universe
here
a solo act
that let her
add her own
soundtrack
to it
today
it’s the
“DEAD KENNEDYS”
reverberating
off the inside
of her glass
walls,
not really needing
to hear the
words
most people say
when they do
talk to her
just a nod
of her head
towards the
LED display
when they mouth
the words
“How Much?”
as she then
runs their card
and sends them
quickly on their
way,
she does have
her admirers
at nineteen
and not in
school
some guys
see her as
a lost soul
not understanding
she’s right where
she wants to
be right now
not that being
able to play
loud Punk music
in a soundproof
room
was what she
wanted out of
life
but right now
it just seems
to fit
she starts her
day
at 6:00am
and can still
catch
plenty of sun
when she gets
off
at 1:00pm,
she gives the
volume control
a twist to
the right
turning it up
as loud as
it can go
when
“Holiday in Cambodia”
starts to play
her body
taken over by
the raw Punk
sound
as she puts
her bouncy
style of dance
on display
behind the glass
everything about
her
all moving in
different directions
as he stood
there
her back to
him
as he was
taking in the
moment
of beauty
youth
and music
all blended
into one
till her head
jerks in the
direction
of the front
window
where she sees
a twenty something
guy
standing there
who got lost
in her moves,
smiling to herself
as she sees
instant disappointment
sweep across his
face
as her body
comes to a
stop
and she turns
towards him,
his mouth
not moving
as he looks
through the
glass
her chest rising
as a bead
of sweat
makes its way
down her forehead
she gives him
a nod
hoping to prompt
him
to speak
he pushes two
fives
and a ten
into the metal
box
between them
she takes out
the money
still waiting to
hear
what it’s for
she has to
give him a
shrug
of her shoulders
to break him
away
from tracking
that bead of
sweat
still moving down
her forehead,
“twenty on three please”
he says
his voice cracking
as the words
finally come out
she gives him
a thumbs up
along with her
standard
thank you smile
for his effort,
he lingers for
a second
unable to think
of anything witty
to say
walks back to
his car
and pumps his
gas
her body still
moving
in his mind
as she turns
the volume control
to the left
just so she
can turn it
all the way
up again
for her next
favorite song…
Tom Allen…06-23-2018…