Sometimes I’m at work
And I lose my stapler
And my will to live.
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-Ace job interview
-Take 10 paid vacation days
-Get fired, repeat
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Write a few haikus
About work though self-employed.
#Poetry
Tag Archives: Work
Honorable Mentions Include: Lackey, Thug, And Fall Guy… They Just Don’t Rhyme As Easily
It may not be fun to be a grunt,
A minion, red-shirt, or blackguard,
But you’ll surely be remembered
When one sees your business card!
RIP Bob (1945-2014), Most Valuable Employee (2015-Present)
A lot of Toms and Dicks and Harrys
Think of death as something scary,
But I see little cause for fright
In the unknown of an endless night.
Say a chicken passed away.
Some would cry and weep and sway
But I would fry it in some lard
In lieu of writing a sympathy card.
So if a friend or neighbor dies
Would it not be equally wise
Not to equate God to a beast
But to sell the corpse to Fancy Feast?
And if you are the one to pass
Why not do it with some class?
You’re dead, but life need not end. How?
Well, some call centers are hiring now…
Filed under Poems
A Friendly Poem For The Boss On Your Last Day
For all of the work
U’ve put into my life,
Can I ever thank you enough?
Kause of you I can say
Yeah, life’s terrible, but hey! Now I
Own a whole lot more stuff!
Ur name here <~~~~
Filed under Poems
Night Shift (Every Walmart Ever)
Sleepwalking,
Night stalking…
Insomnia is killing me.
Dead of night,
I feel no fright.
Just a few more hours ’til I’m free.
With empty hearts
And bulging carts
They leave my shelves so very bare.
Their hands are deep
In all that’s cheap.
At these poor beasts I stare.
All these hours
Living in a haze
Just a few more days
On the night shift.
I waste my life
Repeating strife,
Putting boxes back on the shelves.
My peers and I
Just want to cry,
Go home and be all by ourselves.
I ain’t got paid,
But I’ve quit and stayed.
Oh! How that paycheck calls…
I say I’ll walk,
But it’s all talk.
I haven’t got the balls.
All these hours
Hoping its a phase.
Counting down the days
On the night shift.
Then in an instant
I hear the TV:
“Todays winning numbers are
“7, 6, 5, 4, 3.”
Thirty-eight million dollars
Are mine! All mine! Then…
My boss yells “you’re fired
“If you doze off again.”
All these hours
And finally an excuse…
No need for such abuse…
Time to take another snooze…
On the night shift.
Logic, American Dream Style
Monday through Friday
My heart’s only dread
Is that midmorning song
That says “get out of bed.”
Yet come days of Satur
And as well days of Sun
My heart sings in the morning
‘Til the day is all done.
For when clocks of alarm
Cracks serenity’s hold
And says “put on your clothes
“And go do what you’re told”
My vigor and pep
Aren’t what they used to be
Like when I was a child
And still blissfully free.
When instead of alarms
To the sun I awaken
And instead of my job
I get pancakes and bacon
My bliss flows more freely
And I feel stronger.
From now on I’ll work weekends
And be miserable longer.
Filed under Poems
