A Situation over Coffee
Sitting outside
was always going to be a bad idea.
Sweat started dripping
from Schubert’s sideburns
and the naked high rise in daylight
left nothing to the imagination.
“So what’s the deliverable then?”
Cage insisted an answer was needed,
Nostalgia, Singapore,
sipping from his double espresso
as if sanity depended on it.
“I mean, at the end of the day,
or actually the beginning?”
The boutique hotel,
dwarfed by its neighbors,
quivered at the inquest.
“We have seen modernization
and great strides made,”
the introduction algorithm began,
“and as we speak,”
Schubert improvised,
“someone somewhere
must be harvesting energy
from beetle flight.
You know, those big ones,
the rhinos.
Children love them,
and they could really be useful,
equipped with nano-recording devices.”
“Tiny little double-oh-sevens, eh?
Interesting,” Cage nodded,
the caffeine kicking in,
or the humidity getting to him.
Buses and taxis continued
their rattle and hum,
a symphony of headache and traffic,
a conflux of artifacts and nuisance
beyond the exotica,
beyond the wetness and greenness
of strategically placed plants.
“Still I think
we are missing something,
we are
missing
a certain elusive,
I don’t know,”
Cage attempted a thought in return,
leafing through the glossy magazine.
“Nature at the equator
certainly represents an infinite offering,”
Schubert eagerly agreed
“she is,
luscious
and eminently patentable,”
but the waitresses
had started laughing uncontrollably
and anyway, it was about time
to leave for another experiment.
was always going to be a bad idea.
Sweat started dripping
from Schubert’s sideburns
and the naked high rise in daylight
left nothing to the imagination.
“So what’s the deliverable then?”
Cage insisted an answer was needed,
Nostalgia, Singapore,
sipping from his double espresso
as if sanity depended on it.
“I mean, at the end of the day,
or actually the beginning?”
The boutique hotel,
dwarfed by its neighbors,
quivered at the inquest.
“We have seen modernization
and great strides made,”
the introduction algorithm began,
“and as we speak,”
Schubert improvised,
“someone somewhere
must be harvesting energy
from beetle flight.
You know, those big ones,
the rhinos.
Children love them,
and they could really be useful,
equipped with nano-recording devices.”
“Tiny little double-oh-sevens, eh?
Interesting,” Cage nodded,
the caffeine kicking in,
or the humidity getting to him.
Buses and taxis continued
their rattle and hum,
a symphony of headache and traffic,
a conflux of artifacts and nuisance
beyond the exotica,
beyond the wetness and greenness
of strategically placed plants.
“Still I think
we are missing something,
we are
missing
a certain elusive,
I don’t know,”
Cage attempted a thought in return,
leafing through the glossy magazine.
“Nature at the equator
certainly represents an infinite offering,”
Schubert eagerly agreed
“she is,
luscious
and eminently patentable,”
but the waitresses
had started laughing uncontrollably
and anyway, it was about time
to leave for another experiment.