the white wall

seeing through it all. the white wall. people sitting at rows of desks

paper rustles people talking bright blues and grey jackets shirttables squeak pens click pencils scrape people breathe in andout glancing sipping with hair that’s jelled and sticky or that’spoofy and unkempt the picking teeth the yawn and sighthe temple rub the eye rub the crotch rub others stretch andmove and clench and wince hands moving in and out ofpockets (the drone of thoughts that call for stillness) wordspop out and dance some underline and shout others circleand stand italics lean a bit closer to whisper to each other orgive long looks some seek to sleep others just shift fromright to left some read down and up others still keepclicking their pens while light weighs heavy on the right sideand the shadows sit in the chair on the left some pick nosesothers ears others twirl and untangle hair hands shift andblood fills the pressed skin near the cheek bones chairs keepsqueaking and feet clap their sandles people blink

and blink and blink and blink and blink and blink and blink hair rubs against chairs fingers type slowly and quickly the hand on the clock moves with the skips of seconds and a man scratches his chin and leans and another one coughs peoples knees knock the desks and the light continues to press on the right and flicker above off the wall all ears read and filter out various echoes and scratches and clicks eyes tune out thescene and deafen their blinking

 yet the wall might be where we should be looking—it’s so white and strong and almost like we can feel through it. it could be better for us to just to stare at it to see the white and and the little indents and scratches to follow it up to see how far it goes before it connects to the ceiling and to follow it down to notice where it meets the floor—to lay our hands upon the smooth and cold to notice our warm. and I’m inclined to think, with the light now pressing in on our left, if we squished our nose against, our chest against, our hands against so much that we felt our breath heavy and hot even damp and spreading quick from our mouth and eyelashes brushing too our ears might begin to hear the scratching and we might begin scratching and seeing through it all. the white wall.