Time Gone Missing

I have been here on the beach
for two months now, lost and sick.

I have not been waiting long
for the internet to be invented. 

I can be idle and sad. It’s Saturday?
Both Saturday and I have acute viral bronchitis.

My issue: thinking 
all lungs in life should cough at once. 

I always just found the unmarked beachfront building
where I will be interviewed by a voice, maybe a face.  

The interviewer might tell me I am impeccable and beyond reproach, 
never give me a job. Might tell me that someday, we will all swim like we were

never born, float with pool noodles in the World Wide Web.

ξ

Amy Poague lives in Iowa and holds an M.A. in Creative Writing from Eastern Michigan University. Her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and has appeared in Figure 1, Stirring: A Literary Collection, Rogue Agent, SWWIM Every Day, The Indianapolis Review, and others. She can be found at amypoague.wordpress.com and on Twitter @PoagueAmy.