Murky Tank

Cornell was right.

The murky tank fills up and makes that familiar sound.
I lend my ears out of the room and wonder if the machine has properly worked.
It did work this time.
I look around my room.
I see disorder and order and wilted flowers and packaged products.
I see an elephant with a broken trunk that will not face my door anymore.
I see things I have to finish and things that I’ve yet to start.
Everything here is a reinforcement me of my existence. But I don’t need it.
So I put on rock and roll. And then it makes sense to me.
I am down on the upside world.