The Working Dead
Both feet on the floor,
Its’ 6am and once again I’m rushing out my door.
Dressed in a hurry, showered and shaved,
My mind is cloudy, its’ still in a haze.
I rub the crust from the corners of my eyes
Trying to shake off the stupor but I feel like I’m barely alive.
The bus ride to work is crowded, long and routine
Same thing every day, most times I just want to scream
Sitting next to faces, worn out and blue
We’re all in the same boat, damn, what do we do?
Tired, depleted and counting each day.
Somebody please tell me, because there’s got to be a better way.
Soon I stumble through my office’s doors in a zombie like gait,
Dragging my feet and I realize I’m late.
I walk pass my coworkers weary and slumped
Thankful we have jobs, but god how I hate this dump.
There’re no energetic “Good Morning” greetings, just tired and guttural moans,
But we all understand as we just grunt in acknowledgeable tones.
Shortly my supervisor encircles my desk like a lioness ready to bound
She shrieks my name and I cringe at the sound.
That project’s overdue, and my quota’s not made
I envision tossing her out a window as she continues her tirade.
Then my stomach begins to rumble,
it’s that breakfast sandwich from the street cart.
The bacon was greasy and cold, while I let out a sneaky fart.
I dart for the bathroom with my newspaper tucked under my arm
Hoping I beat the coffee crowd, but instead there goes the fire alarm.
The trip down the exit stairwell is what annoys me the most
Descending 25 flights to discover someone burned their f&#@'g toast.
I shiver in the cold as the fire truck roars down the street,
the firemen are seemingly pissed for it’s the third time this week.
One hour later we stagger back to our assigned areas herded like cattle in a bunch,
While I sit staring at the ceiling wondering what I’m going to eat for lunch.
Finally, I begin my daily work and my screensaver fills my mind with thought.
Of peace and calm and a big house my lottery winnings just brought.
Living by a beach with a martini in my hand.
My face soft and warm as I bury my feet in the sand.
This will be my every day, free from stress and strife.
I will relax and chill by the water loving my new life.
Soon my daydream is over, and I let out a long sigh
It’s only ten AM and the director just walked by.
I re-start my computer and I don’t know what to say
I hope no one notices, but I wore this same outfit yesterday.
Copyright ©
Nora Gibson
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