At Work
It is you, as I, who sits aloft
This high-tech coo-coo's nest
Answering to crests of ill-repute
Our moment, out of culture, spent

In germination of this -- discording craft
We tap codes without the rhythm
Where shadows of light no longer grow
Here... circular flows are in cessation

And when the counter's day finds rest
As tamed wildcats without their leashes
Our birds take free to bursts of wind
When that heavy watch click ceases

so wistful
-------
where do wildcats go without their leashes?