In This Office • Mira Martin-Parker

berries rot in cups
boxes pile high
papers accumulate
cups of coffee grow cold

(They said I was creative.)

people come and go
phones ring
the sound of angry voices
messages are taken

(They said I was pretty.)

leaves on plants brown
envelopes and stationary
are restocked
pencils ordered

(They said one day)

computers crash
janitors empty wastebaskets
notes are taken
assignments given

(I would make something of myself, be someone.)

lunch time, the smell of food
men in suits arrive
business cards exchange
you enter

(When I'm older I'm going to travel, have money.)

mail piles up,
goes unanswered
accumulates on tables
spills onto the floor

(When I am older I want to)

recycling bins are emptied
deliveries made
you reappear
and leave again

(please tell me that when I am older I will)

files and folders
fill cabinets
fall behind desks,
are forgotten

(have a place, a beautiful place)

dust appears on shelves
on window panes
plant leaves turn brown
flowers fade

(and someone, please say there will be someone)

appointments are cancelled
announcements made
information requested
you pass quickly, in silence
not looking

(for me.)


Mira Martin-Parker is currently pursuing an MFA in creative writing at San Francisco State University. Her work has appeared in Diverse Voices Quarterly, Literary Bohemian, The Minetta Review, The Monarch Review, Mythium, Ragazine, Tattoo Highway, Yellow Medicine Review, and Zyzzyva.