Cubicle Dream (First finished poem)

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Timekeepers unflinching in their dictation of time passing

Unabashedly strike off each guarded second.

Viscid moments tease their presence

and flee

knowing my hand will not seize them.

I am here.

I know.

I am painfully aware

and awareness of being here

only cures itself quicker.

The seat in which I slouch is oversized -

Vogue in styling to appease its heavying audience.

I gaze beyond my screen and lose focus

into a daydream of surpassing monzogranite

and fantastical trees

yearning for the brilliant celestial canvas of night to cover

baked earth.

How I long to be blistered by

destructive ultraviolet

and be jerkied by arid gusts

and eavesdrop on quarreling crows who linger

by seasonal habitats in anticipation of a sweatless snack,

while I submerse my soul in the densest waters of now.

Until I bathe in vermillion wavelengths

crashing into neighboring crimson

I will not rest at ease.

Only in this Martian landscape will my ego be

appeased.

Posted Jun 6, 2018, 8:22 PM UTC