Hold on a Second

Would you like to write about where
You are or where you want to be?
Where you are the air circulates
Through centralized machinery

And light comes from fluorescent tubes.
But you're only here a minute,
And now you're back out in your car,
Your own hunk of machinery

In which you feel so much at home
You don't even notice the air
Circulates through the same system
As the grim building was using,

And you're strapped tightly to your chair.
No, you're not. You're home on the porch.
It's sunny and swallows circle.
No. You're at the local park. No.

You're home reading to your daughter.
No. The sunset gilds the green wood.
A ceiling fan spins lazily.
No. You're hauling her up to bed.

No. You're back stretched out and tired out
And the moon, which, unlike the sun
Does rise, lights a Max Parrish sky.
Where were you? What was the question?