poem: (trying) to read at work

boy on the pink-red diving board —
vile men lined up in chairs —

“has it gotten any better up here?”
we are not past the point of logical digression; at least
we are not in the rubix-cubicle-grey. changing the ebook
interface to make Difference (knowledge is an empty
house)– i go on long walks after
work, through the work sunshine coming through
big collegiate windows like a wet
unheating, like the first scattering of summer
when, mothlike, i retreat to humidity-tented
cotton, adolescence. the book spirals

in my bag, unread; at work the text is ground
into an eyesore, into coal — knowledge is a
bargain, I cannot (without coworker
interruption) finish the first interview chapter of
brief interviews with hideous men.