Going up, down.
A poem called Going up, down.
Going up, down.
In the elevator,
big man, little dog, and
the chef from the basement.
In the elevator,
empty Amazon.com poly
bags and Styrofoam.
In the elevator,
and I'm carrying a bag of
my own human shit.
In the elevator,
B1M234, but not
M.
In the elevator,
the smell is starting to escape.
In the elevator,
2 too many bicycles.
In the elevator,
and it won't stop beeping.
In the elevator,
practicing The
Beatles harmonies.
In the elevator,
I hope the cute girls
from the third floor
don't get on.
In the elevator,
waiting on the elevator.
In the elevator,
we brought the cat and
he doesn't like the elevator.
In the elevator,
resident key fob required
to operate elevator (unless
you work at the bar downstairs).
In the elevator,
crying about the elevator.
In the elevator,
2 separate phone calls
on speaker phone.
In the elevator,
a homeless man broke into
the elevator, everyone
is warm.I’m late on the long essay that I promised last week. It will be better this way. I believe it will be presented on Friday, 01/17/2025.
