Saturday, March 13, 2010

6th Floor

The office mammals wrestle
over the copier
while the phone rings
endlessly in the
cavern of cubes.

How can an artist
live in this jungle?

The pigs and bears laugh
at such a silly
thought, amused.

12 comments:

Croglish said...

I admit I didn't read all posts but in last few I like how you represent your thoughts through rhyme.. Did you consider to put on the end, after the poem, just one line with a question that bothers you the most that day?
Would help maybe, specially if it would be somehow connected with a poem..

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DWinters said...

I laughed out loud at this quirky post. I used to imagine the people in the office as animals too. Nice sense of humor and great photo to illustrate it.

Steve Wuz Here said...

Awesome! Keep on going.

Walker said...

Ignore the animals and let them eat each other up

Jessyca said...

First time dropping by your blog ^^ Looking forward for more blogs ^^

The Mucker said...

I love the visual image your words induce in my mind

colin said...

I am commenting on your newest post because it's your newest post.
First time here, truly beautiful prose, drawing pictures and transferring feelings with words. Really good. Don't stop.

GlobPots said...

Great poem! You should read Douglas Coupland's JPOD for an answer to your question.

Artists are like roaches, we thrive everywhere!!!

TK Kerouac said...

very interesting blog!

Chris Dee said...

I watch the blueberries grow.

Lenora said...

Wow - anger, denial, sadness, pain not to mention love - are often the wells from which fantastic art surface; your poetry and prose are no exception, and hopefully therapeutic too. I cannot imagine.

I love "6th floor" hillarious, so true!