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”