Have you seen the broken chairs
abandoned to the corner office
the door sits always cracked open for
another meeting of the broken chairs club
it no longer appears on official floorplans

I once heard there was a whole floor
with abandoned machinery still
ticking sparking grinding seen only in glimpses
through the wrong elevator button

The people here are fragmented
distorted two inches to the left ignoring
whole sections of the government beige walls sitting empty
push pin outlines of missing pages in A4
it’s a strange number of blank spaces
filed here in politic tall cabinetry—redacted before we arrived

The Minister continues to be mildly confused
at the unclassified briefcase of
policy advice, artwork and transport notes from a suburb in a large town
that appear each Friday
on occasion he frames and displays the policy advice.

He visited once and handshook his way through the second floor. Spent three days floating a few feet above the boardroom—his head enclosed in a ceiling duct—before leaving his sincere compliments with the Head of Facilities for excellent service to the economy.

You look amazing
where did you find that
sense of purpose
I have been looking for something
in a similar style

The cut of that jacket
is so flattering to the curve
of your elbow
I can see the work you’ve put in

Have you had a trim recently
your self-imposed limits are so much lighter
you must have cut some shit loose
they are so light on your shoulders

that lipstick is on point today
that shade of backing yourself
is so good on you

You brought yourself flowers
I knew you’d been smelling roses
I can see it glowing
in the corners of your lips