Thursday, January 3, 2013

Office Politics

Another threadbare day
yet to die.
Skeptical glances emerge
on this aerosol-filled room.

The bitches are trying to salvage
the serene beauty
it brings.

There they go again,
plummeting the rays of our sun
and those who tried to hold a job
in a confounded way

In the seam of our veiled
we sympahtize (for) one another
-by stealth

so as not to bleak
our paltry observation

Lunch break.

At the pantry,
dashing windblown hopes
on the platters.

(unpleasant view on the spoons)

The minutes are piercing seconds...
words revolting to ears...

Beat of fear roars...
One bitch succeeded the spot
and the looser took the backseat

Such sight for my optics...
I need an eye drop.

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