Old Zone

A Poem by John

Z

OLD ZONE

'Life is a curious thing,
and, in the bigger picture,
a complete anomaly.'

I

The frame, brittle and hard as bone
And mattress sprung and soft as flesh
And sheet as tightly wrapped as skin

Compose the consequential bed,
Rank with the sweat and fumes of night.
Doubtless, the marmoreal dream.

II

With back office mo’ jobs for blow jobs
And traditional leg up leg over,
The cubicles kept to the rhythm
With clacking of thousands of typewriters.

Their work is now done by computers,
And nobody knows what they’re spouting:
The gesture of spare parts is chilling
With a million machines set to counting.