The deep,
perfectly parallel grooves
- reaching toward the ceiling
- disappearing into the orange
shag carpet.
Counterfeit wood grain
emblazoned with symmetrical designs,
repeating over and over
along the wall.
Hitting its ninety degree angle
and continuing on again.
Hypnotic strains of dark, wavy lines
piercing the paler monotone base.
Fooling no one,
and turning something natural
so regrettably dull.

02/14/2007

Author's Note: I wrote this years ago when I was working at a small store with few customers. Staring at the walls all day. ;)

Posted on 02/14/2007
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