Office

I’ve no office of my own.
No walls. Roofs. No machines.
No fancy bi-weekly checks to sign.
No sick pays. No deadlines.
No pens. Staples. Wastebaskets.
Have no forever-ringing phones.
No office politics. No gossips.
No vacation pays. And that's just fine!

For I write on elephant ears
with a scented aubergine ink
from sweet juicy blackberries I eat
I gossip with mockingbirds and cranes
And when sick I sleep under the rain
that cools my burning sweaty forehead
In the scent of hyacinths I get paid
in stocks and lilacs and peonies
I've no deadline since when the sun sets
the starry night is just as open and pleased
to shine down and caress me with a breeze
I sleep where I live and live where I work
surrounded by myriad office-less livings
I hear the cicadas and crickets singing
and see the sunlight and shadow's artwork
and feel the leaves absorbing the light of day
and giving us life without receiving a pay

I like it here