Poem On Campus -- 5:24pm

5:24pm and
I am a piece of hallway.

It is a flat, unbroken mile.
There are footsteps
but these walkways are empty

Here are my numbers:
I am 5:26pm late
and .15 away from perfect
and still waiting
(for her, no doubt; is she coming?)
I know they are all gone for the day
but these walls still walk
and I listen

I could travel that hallway
(did she?)
it's a long, white column
waxed floors
and the same elevators
(she goes there again and again, dammit, again)
Who knows –
she's vanished and I am
sure as hell
5:28pm
still waiting
wondering how nothing
can be nothing
and be nothing

the doors are closed.

I cry future
like fire
but know that I am really
now, like those damned white floors
and nothing, like no thing,
like the dark corner of a room
I stand there
5:32pm, still speaking
but these walls are just words
and she's gone.