Staff Conference

Another staff meeting, there are lizards at the table, a few goats, an ass. I know they return to the fold of a superficial normality at weekends, some even rock climb or enjoy a quiz-night at their local pub, one builds model ships out of matchsticks, but here they exist zoologically on the musky fumes of their animal instincts. I consider myself human but at times my self-image slips especially when i'm a cog in the machine The actual boss is not here yet his name floats in the air as if powered by a constant airconditioned camel fart. Drone, drone, drone, forced laughter. Intimidation is in the air it is as thick as hand soap. The squeakiest wheel pipes up – kill me now. We are all expendable and know it. Even the warthog at the head of the table. The warthog glares at me while his forced grin smacks my face like an oily rag. I catch my reflection in a window, I am turning into a bedside lamp. Hours later, driving home, body drained; bottom sore from extreme sitting, a mad impossible dream. I want to go back and beat the warthog over his head with my 60 watt brain until he promises never, ever to speak to me again.