Going up-
Up, up, up
The elevator was filled with people
And their shuffling
Coughing gasping wheezing
Gossiping
Gave me the feeling
Of still
Being
In the midst
Going down-
Down, down, down
The elevator was empty
Just I
Encased
In this square steel submarine
Whose dark green walls
Metaled me no comfort
Now I silently seek the image
Of my wife
And miss her terribly
In such poignant immersion
The doors opened again
And I walk out
And take my seat
Amongst the others
And let my fantasies
Dance toward the cold
Harsh secretary
Whose tits
Still stand
For some kind of nourishment.