Industrial Seating

The 'Property of Dairy' is burned in the side,

a warning that nobody bothered to heed.

It’s been a bookshelf, a place to hide,

and exactly the height that a tired man needs.

I sat on the grid to tape up the glass,

packing the life that I’m leaving behind.

I felt the hard plastic, the hours that pass,

and the way that the pressure is never quite kind.

When I stood up, the pattern was there,

a waffle of red on the back of my leg.

Just a temporary, hollow, and portable chair

for a man with a room he no longer can beg.