Archive for August, 2002

August 10th, 2002

» dangerous birds

My day dreams are full of office supplies. A binder clip is first an exotic bird, then an old elementary school lesson about shapes. Triangle, I think. Acute, obtuse, vector. A cat’s funny metal whiskers.

The room is full of life, a riot of odd animals. The great brown tongue of the tape roller. The breathing of the copy machine and later its annoyed baby bird fussing. The stapler lurking on the counter like a calm crocodile. The red ribcage of a letter sorter stuck on a high shelf. The inviting, androgynous laps of chairs. Flashes of ink slipping through a river of paper, breaking the skin of the water.

This orderly jungle is more sinister than you would think. The low, safe murmur lulls. You grow dull and you forget to keep your eye on that thicket of pencils, the copse of paper clips. You spin idly in your chair, unaware of the danger around you. You lose your purpose; the copier flashes on, its feathers ruffling; you draw up your legs and loop lazily away from the shore of the table.

Adrift, you may begin to daydream. You may begin to think the little wedge of metal in your hand is opening its wings.