The morning persists
See it, hear it all. The sporadic drip from melting ice on the catwalks and the rustling plastic covering an air conditioner in the building across the path. The snow is an acceptable substitute for cloud-engulfed stars, but the cold is no substitute for comfort. Ghostly irridencent ground flanks and sometimes crosses over the same beaten cracked asphault and cement that shows through every season, occassionally glossy, always contains a mundane matter-of-factness about its being. The red building bricks have strayed and abandoned their uniform for more exotic titles: burnt umber, tan, a pale bile orange, etc. I'm probably sitting surrounded shivering or shuddering trying to define the difference. I watch my life leave through puffs of fog temprorarily but steadily it obscures the view. There, the trudge of the ubiquitous wastrel stomping feet for attention. Back in my box the flourescent light gives the chicken skin stretched walls a pallid hue and i roll about boondoggling towards sleep after i've inspected them thouroughly for any new marks and niches. Anchored by paranoia the blind is down over the window protecting my privacy from hordes of nonexistant voyuerists. My door is locked in case someone stumbles in by mistake. I am not shielding any specific secret deeds but am hiding from eyes that probably have no real interest anyway. Judgement from phantoms for staying up too late or pacing in a space too small for any significant distance to be covered. I'm keeping isolated the stale smell of idleness and the baseless fear of doing anything significant. Cold air still seeps from the bottom of the window, the only allowance of outside presence. And I wait to get tired, while an irreversible flow of words is lost to my hesitating mouth or hands. Killing time between dreams, but dreams are only a gamble for pleasure. Finally fixating on why my eyes are open and ways to shut them, i look for comfort on the cooler side of the pillow and an area of bed not so moist with sweat. I don't even know how sleep will make me feel on the other side of it.