Monday 14 December 2015

Ode to the waiting area of the Chelsea Piers Skating Rink

he dies bravely, in battle
the white wooden table smeared with blood
or ketchup maybe

moments before,
a claim laid to his seat
two overwrought mothers and a Korean nanny
they bring with them five children
their pepperoni pizzas dripping grease
that scalds him

he cries out in pain
math homework strewn across his lap
reading comprehension piled atop his head
a muffled scream
he is not heard

three iPads ignite
their war cries blare
all options of escape have passed
muddy boots mangle any remaining calm
a herd of rhinoceros children
puddles two feet deep

he drowns in cell phone conversations
the nanny cannot turn off voice dictation
she stabs at her phone with flexed index finger
it pierces his heart

each amoeba child splits and multiplies
now twenty hands heave snot,
he can no longer see
two of the children have farted probably

the end comes quickly
all daylight fades away
he is swept under the table
the nanny still cannot turn off voice dictation

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