Most of my diurnal moves are planned
with the intent of avoiding rush hour.
Oh, I know that makes me a lucky man

compared to those poor schmucks that must endure
the suit and trainers, white collar stampede.
This evening finds me heading out the door

to join the homeward office worker creed.
I’ll make no smarmy talk on the rat race.
I’ll stand aside, stay quiet as the dead,

but if you tut me, I will bite your face.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. peter litton
    Aug 25, 2012 @ 13:48:58

    When you think about it you have to feel sorry for people stuck in soulless offices…
    At the end of the day, a miner, farmer, shipyard worker, nurse or jobbing poet has something to show for their days labour…

    Perhaps jobbing poet is stretching that analogy a bit far 🙂


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