Electrical outlets with their two
slash eyes
and round little mouths seem to
smile or look
startled like the
surprise emoji.
The outlets in my house usually
come in duos,
next to each other,
maybe on top of each other
like a married couple slammed
flat against the wall,
pushed to their edge,
never breaking their smiles,
staring out
as if they were struck numb
at a cocktail party
they don’t want to be at,
or riding an elevator with
the wrong children, or maybe
driving to a job that shouldn’t
exist—
never suspecting they hold
so much power
ready to be unleashed
behind their
forever faces.