We swarm over each other like bees
Without dignity; “thank you” and “please”
Make the office run;
Like a kindergarten teacher, the boss is having too much fun.
Why don’t they leave me alone?
I can save things from themselves on my own.
I amuse myself easier when I’m alone.
The cooperation necessary isn’t here.
“Thank you” sounds more hollow every year,
And “thank you” is all we have
As we sink into HR’s grave.
Let’s start over. Picture Good lying in bed,
Half-asleep, too beautiful to work.
She can work, but they will, instead.
I joked with the one thin girl in the office.
I was kind, but now they think I’m a jerk.
I didn’t really want to work.
A worker bee? That’s not me.
The rules said there should be rulers
And the rulers perfect the hum.
The sounds I once adored were
Blended in with honey which stuck
To me and I couldn’t get unstuck.
“Get dressed. Don’t be a jerk.
Poetry? Right. Thank you. Go to work.”