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Updated: May 7

Every square inch of land

almighty man’s

Stuck his flaccid stick.

We’ve mastered the Arctic,

Been to the moon,

But here I am stuck in traffic,

10mph, half past noon.


We’ve built weapons of mass destruction,

Mapped our genome complete,

Yet here I am slowed down by construction,

Fast food next to me

Now lukewarm I’m forced to eat,


Ketchup and crumbs

On my uniform I barely like to wear

To a crummy job

that makes me glum

& gradually grey my hair.


The secrets of the universe

We’ve dissected

& eradicated the Black Plague,

Yet I’m amid a chorus

of curses dejected

With a car on its last leg.


The boss is mad if I’m late after breakfast.

The wife is mad if I’m late for dinner,

But, gee, it’s so great to be amongst the best.

Almighty man: the overweight,

Underpaid

Nine-to-five winner.



*featured in my latest chapbook of poems, Under the Bridge & Other Absurdities







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