*Originally was going to be in the "Penguin Feathers" spawned series, but towards the end the comedy element slipped more than usual, hope this can be appreciated for what it is*



The entirety of the office workforce
is serving the company about as much a purpose
as an erection under a chastity belt today.



Eyes fixed on the clock,
doing anything and everything
to get through the day,
go home, and escape the
"stress of their work."

I realize how addicted we are to routine
after my third attempt to punch B6
into the vending machine as always,
ignoring that the entire row
is holding my beloved 2:00 PM kit-kat bar.

It's in the second round of
overtime on my break when I realize
that society whores itself out for
decadence & relaxation;
In our own ways we're all just
jerking off the weekend,

trying to make it come faster.




Even the office nerd is
aborting the seconds of his life,
not giving them the chance
to mean anything.

Closing the dictionary,
he proudly pronounces he isn't a virgin,
having read the definition
and knowing that there was no way in hell
there was no genital contact
when he was squeezed out of his mother.

Suddenly I understand "original sin,"
and how perverse priests, and Catholicism must be.


More days, and opportunity, pass me by
and I find myself where I wanted to be,
inebriated along with everyone else
at the party on Saturday night.

I sit back and think about nothing,
take in the music and try to
~ignore the fact that I exist.
This is the life...~



May shock and awe commence,
The stoner almost got it
after that last hit
when he asked why hands on a clock
don't have fingers on the end;
Unaware that they always have
but have always chosen
to hold up only one.



Midnight strikes,
and time is giving his
full-force.fuck.you
welcome to tomorrow.