The problem
with sitting, thinking, working
in a cubicle -
constricted, cloistered,
within prefabricated sections,
isn’t the glare
of fluorescent lighting
painting pasty tones
over peachy complexions,
isn’t floral tapestry casing
white washed walls
(a synthetic garden
aimed to sedate
the laboring masses)
isn’t induced
by the fermented stench
wafting from the break room’s
sink pipes on any morning,
isn’t the odd dregs drifting
behind computer terminals,
a collection of pink dust,
whipped into tufts of cotton candy,
churned from sugar vats.
No, it’s not that.
The problem erupts from a window,
not just one but many
long, rectangular, panoramic panes
suspended across the length of an office
like landscape paintings on display,
a gallery of glossy canvasses
capturing life from every angle,
yet lacking one essential brushstroke - me.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Loved the rush of this piece, and the large scope of the imagery. Terrific! Geo
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Beautiful piece...loved the artsy expressionism...
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I lived my life as a traveling man uncluttered by desks and such you've expressed the need for freedom well
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