Medicinal Sunshine

It’s a beautiful day.

So why are we here?

Surrounded by walls

like muffins in a tin.

Machines talking

their machine talk

groaning for repair.

It’s a beautiful day.

One can see it

beyond the open dock door

as the semi-truck

unloads its boxes on the dock.

Phones are ringing.

Speakers are speaking.

Rush!    Rush!    Rush!

There’s work to be done.

Raise you hand

if today’s the day

that you’re eating

the same old lunch.

It’s a beautiful day.

That’s the rumor

that you hear

as the printer prints itself

out of ink

and the computer

loses its logic

and shuts itself down.

It’s a beautiful day.

You take a look

at the fluorescent sky

the moon an unlit

emergency light.

The air you breathe

reluctantly

reminds you of a meadow

clouded by the smell

of chemicals and dust.

The table behind you

is not set for dinner.

It’s stacked with

molded auto parts.

You want to be

sailing in a balloon

or eating pie by the lake.

Instead

you turn and bend

and lift and

load

another impatient

delivery cart.

It’s a beautiful day.

You know it

in your heart.