He works in a building with many windows, but no exits.
There is a box for everyone.
Coffee is served at 9, black.
Printers scan the same papers,
making copies, and copies, and copies
of rewritten words. Rewritten by men in the same suits.
The light is white.
The sun does not come through windows, black.
Plastic plants are dying beside colorless walls.
But late at night, when the boxes are empty,
and the moon comes through windows, silver.
Beside the plants, he’ll paint a creature on the wall
big enough to make its own exit.
And away they go.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 2:03 PM UTC
He works in a building with many windows, but no exits.
There is a box for everyone.
Coffee is served at 9, black.
Printers scan the same papers,
making copies, and copies, and copies
of rewritten words. Rewritten by men in the same suits.
The light is white.
The sun does not come through windows, black.
Plastic plants are dying beside colorless walls.
But late at night, when the boxes are empty,
and the moon comes through windows, silver.
Beside the plants, he’ll paint a creature on the wall
big enough to make its own exit.
And away they go.
