A man walks back to his office
midway he reaches for snack and finds his hand empty
he thinks himself a mathematician
halfway back now, is quicker than going later
the bakery bell a sirens call
he turns around, drifting to the sweet smelling doors
refilling his hand with his bounty
Left, right, left, right, a hungry march
back and forth from work and satisfaction
a man rolls a stone up an endless bread hill
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