Wednesday, January 2, 2013

poem of the day 01.02.13


just due

he always fancied himself
a big shot
claimed that he did all of the work at this place
never got his just due, he said
not respected enough
thought he saw others climb ahead of him
in the boiling crab pot
got all caught up in the silly trappings
of american work life
kept telling everyone that he could
how he’d get out of here one day
we’d all see
he wasn’t playing second fiddle to anybody
no one knew what he really wanted
we were all trapped as well
stuck paying bills
climbing the walls of the job
killing the hours just to go home
all of us caught up in the silly trappings
of american work life
nobody trying to hold him down
just trying to keep our heads above water
for another twelve
another three hundred and sixty-five
but he kept complaining
how he wasn’t getting his just due
would sit and moan for eight hours
to the rest of us who weren’t getting
our just dues either
forced to listen
before we went home
killing the rest of our hours with television or the bottle
only to come back the next day
spin this vicious wheel of commerce
until sick and silly
as he complained about his precious just due
and anything else that struck his fancy
as he held us captive
during the slow march of eight
plus eight
plus eight
plus eight
plus eight
ad nauseum                                        

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