I’m driving to work, I’m dreading to work,
one more day for the corporate jokers.
Creating new plots to extinguish my spark,
swapping venom together like vipers.
*
I sit at my desk, distant slithers supress
my decisions, I’m not really making.
Obeying my laminate rules made of skins,
that the shedders of evil left waiting.
*
If I question the snakes, they spit fury.
You are nothing, they hiss. Do our bidding.
So I clickity clack on my keyboard,
as they carry on lizard-like grinning.
*
But I have discovered the antidote,
‘I RESIGN YOU SNAKE SLIME!,’ here’s my note.
Originally published at https://medium.com/never-stop-writing/my-job-is-run-by-snakes-027b5823424d
About the Creator
Simon Aylward
Undiscovered Irish Playwright and Poet - Seeker of eternal youth - Wannabe time traveller and believer in spiritual energies - Too many books to read, not enough time!
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Comments (4)
Omggg, this was soooo relatable. Loved your poem!
This is great, Simon. It seems I missed it before. Glad I got to read it here. I think you’ll like it better here as well. It’s a good place for your writing.
Now that’s how you drop the mic on a toxic job! Spitting fire (or rather, the antidote) at those slithering schemers—perfect. Hope you strutted out like a legend!
Excellent piece. Quite adequate for the current state of the world. 5/5 stars.