somewhere between tedium and terror 
a little to the east of fear and
a little to the west of apathy 
is a space called me. 

and all the 9 to 5, 
the Mondays to Fridays, 
the filing and the unfulfilling 
filling of time smothers the me
smothers it in a blanket of blah.  

Beige blah.

and somewhere between 
the yawn and the scream, 
a little to the north of anxiety 
and a little to the south of resignation 
is a space called free.

and in that space on Saturday night, 
when the phone stops 
and the typewriters shut down 
and the rolodexes stop rolling
the me and the free get it together.