my blues
in my little cube i sit
a universe all its own
my computer my desk my phone
it is my home one third of my day
monday through friday
the same view of the waste treatment plant
and the parking lot
i call people
i work the phone
sell buy won't you try what we have
my efforts pay for the bird seed
the digging of the pond
the lawn tractor
an actor
and i'm good at what i do
i keep it honest and true
all i want is my window open
to smell vermont coming in
when it comes from the north
it is the wind that goes by my home
i can smell willow vale
in my workaday jail
but she wants the air conditioned
passed by freon tubes in some vent
chilled and drained of vapor
so all windows must be closed
and i am cut off
today it was 73 and breezy
like the day before
no summer yet in our fair land
no dog days
no hot burning humid cricket-humming days
just cool and sweet and breezy
the scent of the japanese lilac filling the room
until the windows must close
and the air become conditioned
despite my petitions
this is vermont i say
let the breeze play in our little cubes
let us at least breath the world we are missing
life is dripping by
don't close my window
don't turn on the machine
don't take away my tenuous connection
my intersection of the inner and the outer
i lose
oddly i hear her discuss fishing
where there is no conditioned air
i stare through my closed window
my blues
a universe all its own
my computer my desk my phone
it is my home one third of my day
monday through friday
the same view of the waste treatment plant
and the parking lot
i call people
i work the phone
sell buy won't you try what we have
my efforts pay for the bird seed
the digging of the pond
the lawn tractor
an actor
and i'm good at what i do
i keep it honest and true
all i want is my window open
to smell vermont coming in
when it comes from the north
it is the wind that goes by my home
i can smell willow vale
in my workaday jail
but she wants the air conditioned
passed by freon tubes in some vent
chilled and drained of vapor
so all windows must be closed
and i am cut off
today it was 73 and breezy
like the day before
no summer yet in our fair land
no dog days
no hot burning humid cricket-humming days
just cool and sweet and breezy
the scent of the japanese lilac filling the room
until the windows must close
and the air become conditioned
despite my petitions
this is vermont i say
let the breeze play in our little cubes
let us at least breath the world we are missing
life is dripping by
don't close my window
don't turn on the machine
don't take away my tenuous connection
my intersection of the inner and the outer
i lose
oddly i hear her discuss fishing
where there is no conditioned air
i stare through my closed window
my blues
in my little cube i sit
a universe all its own
my computer my desk my phone
it is my home one third of my day
monday through friday
the same view of the waste treatment plant
and the parking lot
i call people
i work the phone
sell buy won't you try what we have
my efforts pay for the bird seed
the digging of the pond
the lawn tractor
an actor
and i'm good at what i do
i keep it honest and true
all i want is my window open
to smell vermont coming in
when it comes from the north
it is the wind that goes by my home
i can smell willow vale
in my workaday jail
but she wants the air conditioned
passed by freon tubes in some vent
chilled and drained of vapor
so all windows must be closed
and i am cut off
today it was 73 and breezy
like the day before
no summer yet in our fair land
no dog days
no hot burning humid cricket-humming days
just cool and sweet and breezy
the scent of the japanese lilac filling the room
until the windows must close
and the air become conditioned
despite my petitions
this is vermont i say
let the breeze play in our little cubes
let us at least breath the world we are missing
life is dripping by
don't close my window
don't turn on the machine
don't take away my tenuous connection
my intersection of the inner and the outer
i lose
oddly i hear her discuss fishing
where there is no conditioned air
i stare through my closed window
my blues
a universe all its own
my computer my desk my phone
it is my home one third of my day
monday through friday
the same view of the waste treatment plant
and the parking lot
i call people
i work the phone
sell buy won't you try what we have
my efforts pay for the bird seed
the digging of the pond
the lawn tractor
an actor
and i'm good at what i do
i keep it honest and true
all i want is my window open
to smell vermont coming in
when it comes from the north
it is the wind that goes by my home
i can smell willow vale
in my workaday jail
but she wants the air conditioned
passed by freon tubes in some vent
chilled and drained of vapor
so all windows must be closed
and i am cut off
today it was 73 and breezy
like the day before
no summer yet in our fair land
no dog days
no hot burning humid cricket-humming days
just cool and sweet and breezy
the scent of the japanese lilac filling the room
until the windows must close
and the air become conditioned
despite my petitions
this is vermont i say
let the breeze play in our little cubes
let us at least breath the world we are missing
life is dripping by
don't close my window
don't turn on the machine
don't take away my tenuous connection
my intersection of the inner and the outer
i lose
oddly i hear her discuss fishing
where there is no conditioned air
i stare through my closed window
my blues
Posted: Mon - June 28, 2004 at 10:30 PM
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© 2004 Al Alessi
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Published On: Feb 10, 2005 10:32 PM