#3 Occupy Igloo

Brr polar ice can eskimo puppet, and is that the abominable snow man to his left? Wwwatch out little can man. The tee pee was found and not made by me. Thanks to Miguel for recycling this can. 

Chained to a desk 

with 

a stuffy head and a stack of heavy books like lead

or slate or cool marble pressing against my chest 

making me wheeze like a octogenarian.

The metal of the chains imprint my skin and give

an acrid oder of confinement.

Soft gray clouds with no threat of rain

waft past the window carried on the gentlest of breezes,

like a giggle or sneeze,

and beckon for someone to hop aboard

But the stack of books grows higher and take on an identity.

In the presence of the warden

      the clouds skitter away 

just out of reach of the outstretched hand. 

Begging for the key and

     Instead the clock grabs hold

and ticks and ticks until it grasps

        too tight to be free.

Bound to the time bomb of the deadline and a date to fill

and a paper to write.

"If only if only the woodpecker sighs"

     sings through my head, the clock noise giving way to the pecking,

starting a tiny crack of freedom and 

trying to wedge it into enormity. 

    But the deadline looms like a storm rolling in

smell the rain?

   Thats on the parade of a free saturday.