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short fiction  short poetry  short commentary  short..uh..art
 

   

 

 
  Joseph R. Trombatore

Temporary Agency



She sits at her desk
this receptionist
poised like a princess
turquoise eyes perfectly set
amber beads around her neck

anxious as any Friday afternoon
she believes in the
smile of a schoolmarm
hands out paperwork
like toothpicks
at a sushi bar

no cell phones
no crying babies allowed
you are in this place
for the duration

there will be no restroom breaks

it is the closest thing
to a Police State
you will ever want
to experience
 

 

 




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