Serpentinarium

...back against a wall, window behind me, warm sun pours over my hands, speaking in letters, type, skype, type, snipe, allusions of grandeur, delusions of sandier, rhyme time, climb slime, free associate on business people walking down streets in new york, wise guys I read about but know nothing of, a city that never sleeps, especially around times square, where, church is the thing, Saint Mary's just around the corner on 46th...and here again, dust on a screen, little asteroids, a belt around the waist of the solor system on my computer sol...shadows of trees waving in the breeze outside falling on the floor beside me, white carpet, stained here and there...kids playing in the other rooms, wife reading the paper, Sunday morning, quiet...click, click...

A beautiful day, downtown sitting on a bench, sun shining, a light breeze, dappled shadows across the page of the book I'm reading. The story moves along, characters working through their parts as pages turn. Lost in the story.

Then: The bliss of the outdoors calls too softly to ignore, the book closes, slides onto the bench, I slouch just a touch lower, elbow on the bench's smooth black metal arm, followed by cheek in palm. Eyes shielded by my broad brimmed hat, warm sun dissolves the day into nothingness as I drift off.

And then: Dreamily I look at the time. A meeting in 12 minutes. The world beckons me to gentle responsibilities, and so back to the office...

...stomping through fields of cars rolling by, lights flashing, sunlight glinting off of a chunk of shattered glass on the sidewalk—dusty, pushed to the side—concrete below, bricks to the side, blue sky with fluffy clouds above.

faces made of windows up and down river of asphalt, people canoes bobbing along in social currents, washed from work and back during lunch breaks by clock tides.

life at the office in the small city...