Book of Office Days

I didn’t do dick today.
No, that isn’t true.
I drank a Dr. Pepper. Diet.
I rode the elevator at work.

I walked on a marble floor
avoiding stepping on any cracks.
My mother is elderly but doing fine.
Thank you very much.

I assented to being spied on
while using my computer at work
to read about how kangaroos
have three ovaries.
Fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke
Is what I say.

From the conference room
on the 15th floor I looked down on
the tall trees in the boulevard median below.
They looked like the model train world
my dad built out of green canvas when I was a kid.

Later, I rode my motorcycle home
swerving around the manhole covers
watching the clouds
pulling their sky wagons
up the long valley
towards the mountains.

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