|She opens the
desk-drawer idly, slams it shut,
Enjoying the smooth run of the runners.
Two weeks before her death, life's tedious, but
It could be worse. She likes the way her manners
Grate on the manager's nerves. She likes the clean
Lines of the boss's desk where John once fucked her.
She loves the black silt of the coffee machine.
She prays, "Make me a lightning conductor
Receptive to a dangerous energy
Stronger than life. Oh life, astonish me."