Cube Dweller

In between long bouts of looking at nothing, staring unblinking

Into the void and listening to songs that were old when I was young,

I am thinking about our deaths. We work together to put names

To our fears: gun, knife, the inevitable entropic decay of

The universe. (‘Tis a consummation to be devoutly wished.

Doing nothing is more freeing than pretending to do something.)

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