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Ode to a Lutheran Social Services Waiting Room

Your air has been stirred by many legs
And many breaths
And many turning pages

Your carpet has been walked on
By men who drive big cars
Women from valleys
People who have stepped in gum
And live in alleys

Your chairs unhomie and uncomfortable
To some
Are a luxury to others
Hard as rocks yet feather pillows

Your smell of gray mixed
Like a multitude of colors
Of aromas
Of perfumes
Of sweat from walks
From sex
From drugs
From yesterday
From last week
All stay temporarily

Your name serves you well
You look waited in
Your doors are a mosaic
Of finger prints
Around the ever twisting doorknobs
Every picture frame
Hangs crooked on the harmonizing hum
Of the air conditioner
And florescent lights


G. Flores

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