by Brendan McBreen.
dusty pink plastic
and silk floral display
ocean and sky
mural
paint chipping
and faded
on a windowless wall
halogen lights
flicker
paper shuffles
occasional
poorly muffled cough
a chair
scraping
against linoleum floor
the air is sticky
though dry
sagging people
more drab
than their clothes
meander about
occasionally
one with purpose
clip-clopping
in the distance
the air is clear
the light too bright
but this place
makes one’s mind
hazy
makes people
focus in the miniscule
a place
designed
to be ignored
which is why
no one noticed
the raccoon
far from it’s comfort zone
stunned by the brightness
and faux bustle
and busy work around it
though it recovered quickly
like so many others
it couldn’t find
its way out
but soon
the smell
of stale doughnuts
and coffee grounds
drew it
to an almost familiar trash can
and lunch
the raven
just as perplexed
as the raccoon
perched upon a cubicle divider
and surveyed
it’s new territory
unobserved
by human jetsam
drifting obliviously by
a deer quietly drank
from a heavily fluoridated
drinking fountain
near stacks of binders
and the copy machine line
staplers clicked
code was retyped
and an inexplicable forest
began to grow
squirrels scurried through vents
owls hooted
coyotes yipped
wolves howled
fern was everywhere
and the ocean
on the wall
became real
the humans faded away
ghosts in their own lifetimes
while the tide
rolled in
undisturbed
and crabs scuttled for rocky shelter
seagulls
crying above