tap tap tapping
on the computer
   working
my mind wonders
   as it usually does at this time
i hear the whir of work trucks
and smell the greasy, diesel exhaust
the mumbled hum of voices
   different but familiar
paper being spit out in sheets
labeled with jumbled words
   and photos
some artwork
   if you can call it that

production
   money
from this pocket to that

the cursor is blinking at me
beckoning me to make a move
   punch a key
    or shut it down

decisions, decisions...

...my eyes tell me it's time to call it a night
   there's always tomorrow
to get this machine running
   once again.