Everything remains as is

Each little thing stays

where it is

...if I don't fuckin' disturb it!

I hate the decisiveness I'm armed with!

I can stay out of this place

for five months,

and I do, go north, way north,

or south, way south,

or east, way east,

or west, way west,

what do you care!? You don't!

But when I return,

open that door,

the pencils lie - where they lay...

the bed is still made,

the computer looks me in the eye

with its blind screen

I am the news here,

in this time gap suddenly pried open

I am the news, stepping in,

little swirls of air

spiralling off my Hermesian feet,

tiny flakes of dry skin falling off

my meaty totem motion,

fluttering

like sheets of steel accidentally

off an overhead crane at a rolling mill,

raising a dusty hell

down one kilometer of hall

but no one hears the noise

All household utensils get on their toes,

shy back, motionless

”He's here”