Homage To Edgar Allan Poe

Screaming face

 

Somewhere between the cracks of chronic comic cosmic cackling

Seeps blood and choosy boozie floozie oozy fluids down the wall

To pool and run across the floor and corridor

To convert the bureaucrats to acrobats in spats and hats

So they slip and trip and skip and drip

And dance in funny capers dropping all their papers

Stained and mashed and crushed and trashed to make a mess galore.

 

But upper echelons of bosses

Look up from their naughts and crosses

Hexed and vexed by jerky clerks

Who pirouette and dance quadrilles

Across the floor, on window sills,

And slither here and there and thither.

 

“Goddamn!” They slam their bulky hams with palms so sly –

Threaten with their power drills to make round holes above the eye.

The clerks all scream, “It’s just a dream we’re all a team

And don’t ask why.” And so they cower in the shower

Confounded over corporate power,

Wheezing, coughing, sneezing, freezing –

Hoping that they’ll soon be coping as they gracefully go loping

‘Round the wet and soppy soapy sloppy tessellated shower floor.

 

“Back to work!”, the bosses rant, ties askew, eyes aslant,

“There’s things you do and things you can’t!”

But workers wet and workers weary

Fed with practice, jammed with theory,

Red rimmed eyes and vision bleary,

Hungry for a chicken salad topped with sauce but rather pallid,

Stuffed their ears with rubber foam,

Crammed the stairs and elevators,

Tumbled down the escalators,

Grabbed the cabs put on their tabs

And headed straight for spouse and home.

 

 

 

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