The sun is out today,
the clouds are absent.
The flags flap lazily on the pole
halfway between the window
and the next brick building.

I'm listening to Korean rap
and filing through South African parliamentary reports.
others type on their keyboards,
screens facing away from me.
some look bored
and play with hair or scratch their chins.
Some talk to others loud enough to be heard through studio headphones.
Some wrinkle their foreheads or open their eyes wide, shocked at something
(each at separate times).
and four seats down, he sleeps.
headphones in his ears
Ipod on the table.
sometimes he rests his head on the table,
but he always end up leaning back
until his chair tips too far or a neighbor taps his shoulder.
He then wakes up and puts his head back on his desk.
At 2:04, his closest neighbor starts throwing spit *****,
he doesn't wake up.
I put my head down for a second
and quit looking at him.
I look back up and he's awake,
dancing to music, talking, and doing group work.