deepundergroundpoetry.com
Mind field
Mind Field
I leave familiar,
I enter the vague,
I leave comfy circles,
I enter the secret.
9 O’clock start,
6:30 finish,
Friday night I pull a tart,
Her hair a kind of tinish.
During sex I think of work,
At work I think of sex,
During lunch I drop my fork,
At the sound of her text.
I look at the screen and drift off,
Yawning as I go for another broth.
Now make no mistake I’m no toff,
But this kind of job makes me froth.
Thinking is a bad idea,
better to look at a passing rear,
Mr angry boss walks near,
His mood quite clear.
He says life is short,
No shit I retort,
With such little thought,
as my views mean nought.
Beady eyes open wide,
I feel a turning of the tide,
I stare right back,
As he sizes me for the rack.
A glare of fury,
On a man so puny,
I laugh out loud,
For the sombre crowd.
The Cedar room calls,
My attention falls,
I want to go home,
And be free to roam.
Mr angry boss snaps his fingers,
He rants of his money and power,
I’d rather honey and flour..[/font]
I leave familiar,
I enter the vague,
I leave comfy circles,
I enter the secret.
9 O’clock start,
6:30 finish,
Friday night I pull a tart,
Her hair a kind of tinish.
During sex I think of work,
At work I think of sex,
During lunch I drop my fork,
At the sound of her text.
I look at the screen and drift off,
Yawning as I go for another broth.
Now make no mistake I’m no toff,
But this kind of job makes me froth.
Thinking is a bad idea,
better to look at a passing rear,
Mr angry boss walks near,
His mood quite clear.
He says life is short,
No shit I retort,
With such little thought,
as my views mean nought.
Beady eyes open wide,
I feel a turning of the tide,
I stare right back,
As he sizes me for the rack.
A glare of fury,
On a man so puny,
I laugh out loud,
For the sombre crowd.
The Cedar room calls,
My attention falls,
I want to go home,
And be free to roam.
Mr angry boss snaps his fingers,
He rants of his money and power,
I’d rather honey and flour..[/font]
Published 16th Nov 2009
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