there is this elevator that runs up my spine
and play music that is just plain terrible
elevator music. hold music. public television music.
i cannot stand it. and my cat burglar heart
tries like hell to sneak in in the night
and rip out the speakers and reinstall in its place
new sound. vivid sound. the kind of sound
that shakes your neighbor’s walls
the kind of sound that you just lay
eyes up counting the little white flakes
on the ceiling while they are banging on your door
sirens and air horns and bass bass bass
that’s the song i want to play inside my elevator
filled with strangers who don’t talk to each other
but tear them out too.
i want to replace them with a man in a tux
and a woman in a slinky red dress
and when they first get on the elevator
they are as far apart as can be
but the man looks over and the woman looks coy
and as soon as the doors closed
they are throat deep in each other’s mouths
and she asks him if he’s married
and he says yes and she says i don’t care
i don’t care tonight because we were trapped
in this elevator that goes up brice’s spine together
and we are here to beat the doldrums away.
we are just figments of brice’s midnight imagination.
i don’t remember the last time i kissed someone.
i mean sincerely sincerely sincerely kissed someone.
seats leaned back, non-elevator music on the radio
just got lost in the rhythm that they present to me.
tonight, i’m sleep deprived and thinking only of this.
tonight, the elevators were just a segway to what
i really wanted to say to you, dear reader.
but you see, i couldn’t get to it right away
because the delivery man was trapped on floor five
because the infidelitous couple were hijacking the elevator
jammed it stuck at level four, so i had to wait
for their moment of love to end to find exactly
i was looking for.
COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2013