They can't see you cry on Zoom

I’ll stay remote, thanks. 

They can’t see you cry on Zoom

if they even give you the humanity 

of a call. 

No boxes filled with knickknacks of personality,

company branded pens snapped in two. 

No stares eating you alive,

a tornado of silence behind you 

as you walk out the pulsing red exit sign. 

Once the Zoom call ends,

you don’t need to wait for the parking lot. 

You can scream,

howl

until your head pounds

and your voice gives out. 

by Kara Rowan, The Hustle Horrors Series

For more information on The Hustle Horrors Series, click here.

This poem is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or companies is purely coincidental.