A below ground corridor,
impeded by a foot here and there.
Gut of a generator, stoical
Mouths pop whispers of mortality,
these slumping mechanics of
Disparate energy flourishes,
as they decumbently throb.
Strobe pulses tangle and
fuzzily brush complexions.
They've painted themselves
with color codes,
muttering tangled phrase appendages,
as an indri indri walks back and forth, bored.
The women come below to try their
hand at reconstructing the generator,
as an indri indri walks back and forth, uninterested.
2003 Seth McMillan