the hum of the machines could be heard blocks away...
a beautiful (?) tribute to mankind--
something glass, something plaster, something brushed steel.
something...
emitting clear surreptitious smoke
billowing from brightly colored cylinders.
tradesmen,
wired to viewless cubicles,
turn gears by clicking corresponding majuscules.
doors that open into brick walls,
whispered corporate ambiguities--
the politics of information mundane.
stairs leading to the rooftop reveal its core--
a glass encasement
a man in pinstripes
shoveling snakes into a hungry heated opening.

escape to nothing...
the sea and its soothing embrace,
wet sand underneath bare feet,
the taste of salt in the air.

we need more people who shun something,
and see the beauty in nothing.

NB @ 4:33 PM

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