Workplace Poetry  

It's 2010 For Fuck's Sake

It's been called to my attention
the desired retention
of a horribly dreadful machine.

There's nothing to reap
in considering to keep
something so out of use it's obscene.

A purpose it lacks
yes I mean you, Mr. Fax
so misshapen and pointedly queer.

Like a scanner for phones
it's the fossilized bones
of a society from yesteryear.

I'm not trying to be brash,
but it belongs in the trash
right next to that box of Zip drives.

Although it might be more fun
firing it off to the sun
on a rocket and out of our lives.

It should go without saying
that there be no delaying
in sending that paperweight straight to hell.

Yet on the shelf it sits
in spite of my childish fits
Not since Bush has something done nothing so well.


Worst Staff Meeting Ever

Just like that
I suddenly shat
More a thing of nightmares than dreams.

I was equal parts shocked
and figuratively mocked
by my lazy sphincter it seems.

In the blink of an eye
it ran down my thigh
viscous and warm and greasy.

Oh how the stench burns
and my stomach now churns
This is not just a feeling of queasy.

Amid the snickers and jeers
lashing forth from my peers
I vomit all over the floor.

With a sickly splash
it's out in a flash
as I blubber and sob "No more!"

My body grows weary,
the chance of consciousness dreary,
wobbly in the lake of fluids around me.

Before I pass out,
I raise a fist and shout
"Now I know why that sushi was free!"

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18 Reasons to Live

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