Anger
I sit in the lounge…
I sit in the lounge.
Tables of four,
filled with chatter and homemade lunches.
Tupperware, tinfoil, peeling fruit.
I scooch my plastic seat closer to the table
the table no one wants — next to the bell.
Encompassed by vacant seats
I rummage my bag for my sandwich;
lettuce, tomato, turkey, mustard, saran wrap.
Mustard ooze’s to the crevice of my lips,
a tear of yellow drops to my beige pants.
The kettle is plugged in next to the microwave.
At my 11 0’clock: boys obnoxious laughter.
At my 5 0’clock: giggling girls —
and their skinny salads.
Someone opens a window,
the wind rustles the cheap shutters.
The kettle starts to whimper like a puppy in its crate.
My sandwich bun crumbles in my hands.
The wind yearns to whistle through the window mesh, but its voice is sullen.
It tries harder,
the shutter's ugly shimmering grows stronger.
I’ve lost my appetite.
The kettle cries.
The sound of sporadic outbursts pinball from table to table;
(when is it my turn?)
I reach into my bag,
(let there be anything.)
I pull out a note. A small yellow-lined sticky note.
It’s mom.
It says “I love you.”
A lump in my throat;
a leak from the ceiling hits the page like a teardrop.
I try to shake it off the page like father does the newspaper —
I rip a chunk of the note off.
(No, no, I didn’t mean to.)
The kettle cries. (Mother…)
I can’t ignore it.
Sandwich crumbs stick to my fingertips,
gazing eyes flick on and off my face.
The girls whisper, (that can’t be at me?)
they sound like the window,
The boys do impressions; (you don’t wanna see mine.)
The kettle cries-
the whistling wind
the ceiling drip
the ladies giggle
the boys belch
then laugh
my sandwich slips and hits the floor
I grip the seat of my chair as if it’s trying to buck me off.
Kettle,
wind,
ceiling, drip
giggles,
belch,
laugh,
clench
kettle
wind-
ceiling, drip-
giggles-
belch-
laugh-
clench-
But the yellow note:
“I love you, mom.”
It stares at me with warmth and shine
like a hug, with no words. (It’s okay.)
But that puppy wails…she wails.
Kettle
wind
ceiling, drip-
giggles-
belch-
laugh
clench
Kettle
wind
ceiling, drip
5 O’clock, giggles
11
Bang!
Tables
laughter, loud
(When is it my turn?)
(No, I didn’t mean to!)
“Wait!”
The bell rings!
Scream.
