Dying at A Desk

[Visit: a YouTube Video of the Poet’s reading]

Sitting, daydreaming, flying
to the endless boundaries
of a silver screen —
the world is all at hand
waiting yet to be seen,
and hearts are up and running —
desire inside so keen
to get by, day by day —
the world is all at hand,
yet what does that wide world mean?

Sitting, daydreaming, dying
at a desk, a destiny foretold
to sit to buy and wait to die
for those growing needs
are growing like evil seeds
rooting deep like anchors
to hold a vessel from the open seas;
the journey starts here and ends here —

Feet rumbling beneath like wingless eagles,
old gallant warriors dying in their cradles,
creeds no longer born; it feeds
on people like you and me
imprisoned in cubicles
with iron bars around with only one open side
never used to escape; still stands
a living proof of the leash we have inside —
security lies in a decorated cell
of quotes and lovers and idols
trying to make it home
no heart for adventure and risk
we all wait to die at our desk.

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See also: Identity Book Blog and Identity on Amazon