||[Feb. 5th, 2004|06:41 am]
higginbottom here and now
All lights shut off, save one|
long stretch of fluorescent
that reveals a hall's essentials.
Those who clean these bare parts
to make them barer, achingly clean,
go about as if aiding a shoemaker.
Except their clouds of dust,
hardly magic or gold,
fail to hold me captive.
Instead, I dodge squares of glass
so their eyes will not catch
my floating, misplaced face.
Even outside, they walk
to their special rhythm of the hour -
I cannot keep up.
But we rely on this misstep
to keep the busted seam
open-mouthed and dangerous.
I count the lit windows,
notice a world leaking familiar
in the slow rotation of morning.