three inhuman seconds
and his mouth meat bled
one bite stress induced
a soloist on the telephone
making obscene financial calls
scratching a flabby stomach
still held the phone
the woman a thousand fibers away
still howled
fiscal abuse
he had spoken off the script
probing her dollars
sliding inside her head
avoiding indignant sounds
her whole life on his computer screen
a random credit score
he had pushed to far
stench of cheap deodorant
dropping the phone
he ran
red nylon carpets flashed by
everybody watched
as outside the double doors
he vomited with blood
from his cheek
too afraid to return
walked towards
somewhere else
velvetmedia 
oh how sad
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