(no subject)

I see the same view in the evening through the kitchen window of the office and somehow wish I could paint it, all messy with blobs and with the wires to show the knotted heart of the new train terminus - no covering walls yet, just insides all twisted and flickering with tiny torches.  the building stands black against violent pink and purple.  Flashing lights hover suspended in the sky and pass slowly, blinking its way to another metropolis.


In the building adjacent to ours there are no blinds in the windows and I stare straight through to others stuck behind small computer screens, alternatively talking on the phone, slumping forward on their elbows, staring some more at the computer fulfilling the demands of the hive.  I'm but another bee.  But what pollination can this stagnation possibly bring?


There is a tinge of apocalypse to the afternoon.  This weekend will be bitterly cold with a chance of snow.