I'm wishing my life away --
wishing for five p.m.
when I will be free
until tomorrow at 8 a.m.
when I must return
to these prison walls.

This routine, mandatory work
is killing me,
because I am stapled to this desk,
glued to this typewriter,
stuck on this computer,
taped to this calculator,
hung on this telephone,
filed in this office,
bound by that boss.

I dream about escape
to Paris, Rome, Zanzibar....
but not for long.
The telephone calls me back,
and the boss can't find his glasses.

Copyright 1993 Ruth Gillis

Published in the Fall/Winter 1994 issue of Mobius

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