Trench Warfare

I sit at my desk all day,

pretending to be busy, thinking to myself

the whole time;

what a waste;

everyone here pretends,

whether they admit it or not,

pretending to do jobs,

which don’t make a damn bit of difference,

pretending to be someone or something,

that in the big picture of things,

don’t mean a rat’s ass to anyone

or anything;

everyone huddles up in their cubicles,

staring at their computer monitors,

waiting for quitting time to come,

sometimes I stand up, looking just over the top

of an endless line of cubicle walls,

it reminds me of trench warfare in WW1 France,

every now and then you’ll see another head pop up,

but when they see you looking,

they quickly pop back down,

because nobody here is really too sure,

just who the enemy is,

or who the enemy isn’t,

they’re afraid if they show their head too long,

it will be shot off by a sniper,

so it’s constantly;

duck and cover,

duck and cover,

the other day I swear I saw a periscope pop up,

but I could have been wrong,

frankly, the fear of having my head shot off,

doesn’t really scare me all that much;

it’s the poison gas attacks that

have me worried.

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