Monitor Desk

What do I see? The dusk of day slipping fearlessness away.
I see shadows on the desk and a brain full of progress.
I see big glass doors and people who snore.
I see tall straight trees and learning disabilities.
I see cat-eye glasses black as night and
frosted windows painted by slight.
I see bursts of wind and openings dimmed.
I see brass lights and I.D. frights.
I see sweaty palms and suppressed songs.
I see brushes of women walk past, hoping they will last.
I linger on each eyeball in response to it all.
I see paper mate gel pen, grey and white.
Oh what a sight in which to take under, take over, fall, then blunder.
I see jackets and scarves and purses and bags
as they sag over sloped shoulders.
I see various haircuts, stare juts, fair mutts walk past me
but can’t get past me because I hold the key.
I see invisible maps and invisible locks.
I see lists of names and plenty of socks.
What do I see? Just my head on the clocks.