Friday, August 28, 2015

Elevator Pitched

Hollowed anvil on a pulley,
don’t jump or act unruly
up and down, it performs its-duty.

Get on, get off, at the chime,
like a cowboy in a country music rhyme.
Signal to let you know when it’s time.
Inside, some people are chatterboxes, others are mimes.

Eyes in a box, hair in locks, some dressed for stocks,
uncontained, some forgot to put on socks.

At the bottom or top,
basement or parking lot,
with each press, the box will stop,
but it will not make today its last stop.


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