Coffee is down the hall,

Sure hope I don’t drink it all…

Nobody here

But me. Dear,

I hear my every footfall!

Cooked my burritos and squash,

My Thanksgiving evening panache…

Hallways are quiet

Unlike the riot

In stores soon to take off.

Air handlers I hear,

Every night of the year…

No phone call–

Crank or at all–

To break this atmosphere!


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