Graveyard

he fusses over the already neatly arranged college books
in his office station, these crowded tombstones,
these memorials to a still fresh and unfinished past

beside, the computer screen and telephone
like harsh, postmodern twin churches

a ghost of a poem lingers in the air, haunts him,
but a long loud beep in his ears
sends the specter gliding away, into thin wisps of smoke
he adjusts his headset and says thank you
to a person at the other side of the world

This is misposted, my bad. This is what happens when you have one too many blogs than you can manage. LOL. Click on the blogtitle to get routed to the right blog.