Monday, March 17, 2014

office space.

The blinds sway
in manufactured warm, dry, air.
A hard drive echoes out an existence
through its motorized hum
of gears and circuitry..
It pitches then it falls.

Car alarms being heard
from a great far off distance,
ringing menacingly in a whisper
as an insulated call from the outside.
It’s beginning to rain again.
Drip, drip, drip, goes the window pain.

Frequently pacing,
methodically counting each and every step,
pausing when some pair
of counter steps walks past.  
I was intimately aware
of the people around me.
They are the inheritors
of the Magic Kingdom,
on an open road oblivion
that’s calling its disciples home.
The heat from our bodies creeps
 through vents in the ceiling,
 mingling with stars in the sky.
I think I hear them falling.