Office.

Omniscient management networking.
Fluorescent lights, pleasantly annoying.
Finite forms, storm and perform for a premium.
I conform to the norm hum along to jazz in the atrium.
Creativity crushing conformity called 'motivation', we pawn personalities for pensions.
Every day we do our best work, ever dying we try to give. in death will we joke having only half lived?

Hidden between the concrete and the sky

Hidden between the concrete and the sky.

The ravens are seen cawing lullabies.

To their chicks sleeping on the telephone lines.

And the bats in alleys hiding from neon signs.

Hidden beside the canals and outcasts homes.

Are the places where street mongrels roam.

Feed their young with the scraps from the street.

Play and run the tarmac searching for food to eat.

Hidden on the ageing Odeon's ballustrade.

Is the vine of slowly spiralling night shade.

Filling the street with a strange perfume.

Of warmth rather than the factories toxic plume.

Hidden between the shore the spray and tide.

The red scavenger crab scoures rocks and hides.

From the monitor lizard that basks from time to time.

And fishing gulls who lay mollusks on the railway line.

Hidden inside cold concrete metal frames.

Are broken mangled souls that have been maimed.

By themselves others and time passing by.

Hidden between the concrete and the sky.

Binary to reality.

Detained by a desk.
Caught in a cubicle.
Restrained by grotesque.
Drafts and articles.

These tube lights blind.
A/C fumes choke my lungs.
Please give me breezes unrefined.
Lazy days in the sun.

Where I can let ink bleed on the parchment.
Run on naked feet on grass not pavement.
Stare at greens on trees instead of screens.
Stunned at the un-pixelated clean emerald green

Use arms to climb, reach, caress and feel.
Lose myself only to find when I'm lost, I'm real.

Freed from binary breathing.
Totally living to be.
Indeed that would be finally living.
Mortally broke, but free.