Business (As Usual)


A real old poem that I wrote about six years ago, but seems apropos in light of current events:

It gets awful lonesome in this cubicle
With my paper and pen and punched clock
Chuckling heartily at nothing in particular

Thoughts of five at nine and
A world free from gentlemen’s agreements
Sealed with aftershave wax seals
A world free from gentlemen
In general, for that matter

I loosen my necktie and pray to god no one’s watching
Why is there always someone watching?
Hovering over me in dry-cleaned fatigues
Hoisting red pens, hiding unemployment between greased paws
I’m typing my final will and testament on company stock

George Babbits of the world, unite
Untie your ties and punch the time-clocks right in their sorry smiling faces
Execute the CEOs and chairmen of the board with a blind eye and a clear conscience
You’ve waited long enough
(Patience is a virtue)
Feed them stock until they choke
(Gluttony is a vice)
(So is avarice and assholeness)

Burn your building and make s’mores over the ashes
Piss on Wall Street and fornicate all over the NASDAQ
That naughty NASDAQ
Dance circles around ups and downs
Do the DOW
DO the DOW
It’s up, so get it up

I traded in my benefits today
I lost my job and my sanity
I don’t know what to do
From nine A.M.
To five P.M.

So I pull the trigger and the clock stops laughing

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