8

silence: but not.
clocks, computer fans, a sink swallowing water
and the indomitable air pumped in from
that nice day i can see they're having outside.
the attorneys are talking, next office over:
mutually feigning interest to kill time (creating
an even worse silence). their desperate amusement
crescendos! and syllables trickle down my side of the walls.
someone's coming, in measured footsteps; it's the
secretary: "did you--?" no. next time i will.
her voice is high, strained, she's sick. her retreat fades into
papers, memos, phones, a door closing; Diane coughs.
as offices go, i can have no complaints, except--
except--




3/3/09