Cold, Conscientious Existence [revised] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

I’m frozen - appear purple and blue under the
office glare of fluorescent lights - wearing my
ice-blue jersey, draped with pink & white bead
strings resembling a lost snowflake not an Ice
Queen, no long thick hair, no gauzy dress, only
a pink skirt fashioned from a blanket draped on
my pants to defeat freezing air-con streams

Creating dubious Peruvian splendour, Fedora
on my head - trying to overcome my attention
deficit by filling isolated cold texts with fantasy
induced feelings: Agent Snowflake sentenced
to spend ice-cold eternity viewing documents
unable to stir emotions, inspire, awaken red-
hot motivation - looking like a Machu Picchu

Escapee and feeling like flotsam, a forgotten
piece washed up on a lonely island’s shores
with hard-working colleagues discussing the
legislation, just making the place more grey,
forbidding, listening to yodelling over my
ear-phones to bring some joy to this
ice-cold, conscientious existence…