So not feeling like working that am driven to bad poetry

I wish I could be out walking today
But I’m stuck inside this cubicle cell
A fluid mind in a frozen body
A thinking man’s living hell

Strolling among pumpkins
Falling into banks of crisp auburn leaves
A tall stack of recycled paper
My closest thing to a tree

Sipping spiced cider
Feeling the cold air in my lungs sting
A climate-controlled maze of metal
Burnt coffee and static cling

I want to be listening to James Taylor!
I need to be wearing a scarf!
Dear God, a bowl of clam chowder!
Reheated fish sticks know nothing of a Fisherman’s Wharf!

Let me walk with an old camera
Taking bad pictures of beautiful scenes
Let me smell raindrops on grass fields
Take me away from these machines!

A farmer’s market in the clearing
Selling jam and fresh cut flowers
Kneel to pet a sweet old dog
Or rot in traffic at rush hour

America in autumn
Wool socks and football games
America in corporate offices
To be numb is the greatest pain