By Denise Wong
Oh Cubicle,
Thy murky yellow walls enclose me in a
monotonous fortress
of euphoric productivity.
Surrounded by nothingness and books written in French:
alas I am free of distractions.
Your solitary confinement that bores me to tears:
no one to talk to,
no where to go —
except the washroom.
No food allowed —
I guess I can’t binge eat now.
Nothing to do
but actually read.
Oh Cubicle,
I rejoice when we are reunited amidst this
academic craze.
But now that you’ve helped me complete this essay
I must resign from your company
and return to civilization.
Though fear not,
for I shall return when midterms strike
and indeed, strike they shall
