two trash receptacles
I’m in the basement of an academic building
I’ve unpacked my lunch — peanut butter and jelly
sandwich — banana, two cookies — Oreos to be exact,
bottle of water, an orange — well, a cutie to be exact…
so, I’m sitting here, alone, and down the corridor
there’s a classroom, someone is giving a lecture,
a grad student, if I had to guess — it sounds boring,
economics I think… three tables in the little lounge
area where I’m sitting — it’s pretty chill, I like it,
no one to bother me here, and you know I need
to not be bothered sometimes — well, most times,
to be exact… I do the kind of work that gets fucked
if you have to break your attention even for a moment…
I wonder what percent of actual work is like this,
maybe only the important kind, but then again,
important is kind of relative when it comes to the things
we devote our lives to…so feel free to challenge me on that…
anyway, so there’s a couple of bulletin boards,
one to my left has meal prep ideas for busy people,
the bulletin board straight ahead has volunteer opportunities
for undergraduates, and the one to my right, right next to me,
has all the things you should read and the numbers you should
call if you’re having a real hard time, you know, with life — CAPs,
I wonder how many calls a day they get, maybe more at night…
there’s an electrical room, a data closet, an alcove with
vending machines, a sink in the corner,
and two trash receptacles, one…
