It didn’t start this way, you know,
free to roam about as I pleased.
Actually, not even now.
I suppose we’re never released.
Before the float, I used to climb
mountains, out from behind the desk,
pushing pen and people so that
my bosses could declare success.
Some seventy thousand hours
over a kaleidoscope screen,
crunching numbers in the backroom,
wondering if I might get seen.