by Gary Beck

How can I endure this waste

when I am daily trapped

from nine to five?

What is more futile than a clerk

dreaming of Pericles?

There, I said it, Pericles.

I will scream snow-capped mountains,

perched on a mammoth,

seeking mysteries.

Yet I sit

in one of the world’s wonders,

The Empire State Building,

(though it’s diminishing)

dreary, altogether drab,

waiting for release

at quitting time.

******************************