In the event of fire, the public is advised
to take the stairs. That we are called to use

our legs does not mean we can't live
without them. There's no sky in the elevator,

but I imagine it changing colors—like the face
of someone choking on a wishbone.

The octopus remains a creature of escape.
This one prowled six floors down before

it caught the sliding doors. Does losing
a limb increase the intensity of one's hunger?

I don't know what to say to its owner.
The vestibule is a heart awaiting its drummer.

His name is Henry. He has come in
from some war with a limp. Yes, he has

an aquarium. Yes, the poor dear refuses
to stay inside. Yes, so like Marta, his dead wife.

His face ages suddenly. In the event of fire,
vacate the building in an orderly manner.

There is no fire. All that water in the tank,
is just waiting, like a stiff drink, to be lived in.