The stillness of my cubicle unnerving
As the whitewashed walls of human beings
Carouse the parlors of the corporate phallus.
Eyes sunken, lifeless, they peruse the many ways to be marginal
And succeed in all.
Bitty-ritty tick-tocks on my clock
And I stock
Up on the paper clips and file folders that comprise my life
I stack them one on top of the other
Till they touch the ceiling in my 4′x5′ cube
In the hopes that through calamitous confusion
They merge to form a robotic companion named Larry
Who I can speak to about philisophical nonsensical menageries
And attend to meaningful repose and reverical rantings
Amidst piles of instant coffee cups and despoiled sugar packets–
Styrofoam as far as the eye can see.
51 floors of what exactly I do not know
But Larry’s with me in our towers of paper, computers, pens and garbage
And guides me through my day
One cube of a second at a go.
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