No one was sitting in the green chair
behind the front desk in the MicrArt lobby.
A tower of advertisements on 4"x6" cards
balanced precariously on top of
several blue and white boxes with letters and numbers
printed on their sides. We walked through a door
into a vast expanse of gray cement floors.
There were no windows.
Rows of benches were covered with black and silver equipment; piles of cables;
boxes of small objects encrusted with wires;
microscopes; tv screens;
clear plastic boxes with holes in them; surgical gloves.
In the back exposed pipes
alternated with ten foot tall machines.

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