After The Interview Poem by Morgan Michaels

After The Interview



After the interview he walked downtown along the avenue wondering if it was a good or a bad interview, and, if good, why it had been a good interview and, if bad, why it had been a bad interview. He decided it was a good interview because the manager just smiled at his inability to produce a CV and asked about pay. He'd already presented the CV at the other office, he explained.

As he walked, the neighborhood changed around him. For some reason, the Lower East Side is the least alterable part of town and he had the impression he was walking backward in time. The relentlessly repetitive plexiglas high rises thinned out and buildings with deco touches or gum-chomping sixties effrontery took their place. Block by block, it came to be as it was. In suite, he passed small restaurants, bagel shops, sidewalk sandwich boards vetting Northern Italian Cuisine' cubicles where psychic readers held forth, garden shops that actually sold seeds in packets, a shabby cinema, and more. Even labyrinthine Stuyvesant Town seemed a throwback to a more cohesive era.

Thursday, July 31, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: love
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success