Alone in the office, faced with the choice of starting <br />to read a boring document about roads – national roads, <br />highways, international roads, paved roads, gravel roads, <br />dirt roads – and I find it impossible to choose the boring <br />document, I want to talk about <br /> <br />Spring time and flowers and jasmine and trees and the wide <br />blue sea, about decorating my world with symbols of thought, <br />about music and singing and perfume and joy - but I must com- <br />pile a register of government books in my possession, declare <br />everything I have with me, I want to read <br /> <br />Carpe Jugulum, how Granny Weatherwax was dragged to the <br />vampires’ lair by Mightily Oats, the prophet of Om, yet the <br />classification of roads and the impact of transport on Africa <br />waits to be relayed in English - I want to breathe freely, yet <br />I am stuck in a 30 degree Celsius office and <br /> <br />My first choice, to work for a living, dictates my second <br />choice, to stay here, throwing in the towel is not my style <br />but oh, I wish it could be!<br /><br />Margaret Alice Second<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-first-choice/
