I saw an empty office space
with broken chairs and cubicles.
The conference rooms
haven’t seen a meeting for months,
and the dusty tables, lampshades,
and upholstery are not even recyclable.
Cubicles are set in clusters
shaped like ships and rockets.
The posters, soft toys, flower pots,
greetings, poems, sketches, and name plates
all abandoned for the flies and mites.
Where are the people;
what are their services and products;
where are the managers, their fluffy market talks;
what do they dream and aspire;
what do they ride and what do they design;
what new con jobs are they trained for;
are they still seated in perfumed cubicles
somewhere else?
Author notes
I n k S h a d o w
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