Poem – Cubicle Heads #pros

As a child I rode the bus to school.
I would crawl under the large green seats
and slither my way, under and around legs,
sneakers, boots, and the giggles of my friends.

I liked the dirt that covered my clothes
from the floor of the bus.
I liked the feeling of breaking the rules.

I think of the first office I worked in after
graduating college. I think of how many
cubicles fit into the square footage of the office
and about how I looked when poking my head
above the cubicle wall; always, there would be
at least one other head doing the same thing,
no doubt wondering how to break out of this
matrix and go back to crawling under seats
while listening to the giggles and laughter of
freedom.

-M. Taggart

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