The Call Center Dreams of O. Hunt

OHuntsEye

Self Portrait OHuntsEye

*
Telephones ringing
like fireflies flashing
—chaotically

at the beginning
of each work shift

when you
mount

your cubical chair
spinning it around
coming up heads
over tails

Tones on Tail
playing from
cassette tape
an old Walkman
left by your

time-stagnant
predecessor

Firefly phones flash
in unison
now

Plug earbud
into right ear
and then slip
headset microphone
earpiece over left
ear

Switch on
incoming calls

an unfamiliar
voice

floods your brain

Conversations piggy-
back each other
over
each other
into
a chain of checkboxes
checked into

breaks out back
coffee, talk, snacks

and then
you’re peering back
at yourself

from restroom mirrors
while coworkers come
and go

You lock in
the darkest spot
in your colorblind
amber eyes

myopia dissolves

away
away
away

Sand on the beach
warms your bare
toes

Each one loving
the warm cushion
as dry turns to moist
turns to wet

and the little waves
are lapping happy
feet
ankles
calves

Sun is the solution
a forward thinker
flanked by friends
on a dreamy sun-
day-to-day
the work is gone

Call center background
crashing
tele-
phones calling
no more

away
away
away

dissolving in salt-
water

*

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5 thoughts on “The Call Center Dreams of O. Hunt

  1. Evocative and just beautiful. Sometimes I wish I had a happy place. You know, when you’re about to do something unpleasant, people say, “just go to your happy place.” I don’t have one. I haven’t found it yet.

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    • Thanks, Gwen. I don’t have one either. Or, if I do, it changes locations often. Sometimes my happy place is the mirror. I’ve also had several jobs where my happy place was the restroom. I’d hideout there to get away from the work and the bosses. I can picture myself skateboarding and that’s quite happy as well. By the way, I have three pervious O. Hunt poems you might want to read (if you haven’t already). They are in the Pull of the Sun and Carbon Noise archives. Thanks again.

      Like

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