the masochistically euphoric feeling
as the crumbs of your mental categorization which
you've been holding onto in
the bottom of a ripped open sandwich bag:
for the pure sake of maintaining your masquerade of sanity; sanity in our cardboard box
being passive
correlates with success
in the
three components of mainstream valuation:
work, devalue, engage;
start falling out in all directions as spins of dust particles from a ceiling fan do
the laughs of your coworkers sound like
screeches of hyenas preparing for slaughter
your skin is repressing the
two decades of development that
you picked away at for an office chair and a starbucks cup
it's all been as tedious as a ballpoint pen
chewed on from the point upward
but the rain outside this building's windows
reminds you of the days when you sat with a book to enjoy it
so you gather one of the crumbs and store it
behind the curves in your left ear
and log back in
