Suffrage
15 May 2007 | Brett | Poems
He suffered in silence
So he avoided it completely,
Though even he hadn’t noticed
Until someone pointed it out to him.
Not even a friend, just this guy who slurped coffee
On the elevator every morning, someone who he’d thought
Liked hearing his thoughts on the game the night before,
His political views, the next day’s weather.
In the awkward moment
That followed—the efficient elevator, the coffee lidded—
Winded and unglued,
He surrendered.