eyes back upon the screen.
sitting low in the swivel chair
another 20 minutes,
or another hour, who cares...
can't go home now,
was leaving an hour ago.
another message - "where are you?"
but the youtube video's not finished.
this task list still sucks,
it pulls at me.
the papers - the miles of typing.
writing things, important and unimportant things,
but I'm leaving.
30 minutes - 50 minutes.
to and from distant time zones,
across the international dateline
but I'm Leaving - I'm Leaving.
for real, this time.
I'm Leaving - peeling myself away.
here we go,
pushing back in my swivel chair,
imprinted, over time, by my body.
the cables, the notebook - stuffed into my sack,
"Dammit, I said I'm Leaving."
which lights to leave on, which to flip off?
don't forget the alarm.
I'm Leaving - out the door.
Columbus was right - the world is mostly flat.
and very small.
we can go anywhere - anytime.
without leaving the chair.
four miles away,
and we still can't