Secretary Poem by O.S. Brooks

She sits there
squeezing the last dropp of time
out of the clock
shifting between internet games
and excel spreadsheets
the phones are screaming
the entire world is calling at once
the day is almost over
A computer technician
is attempting to hang himself
The office tramp
is flirting with her outfit
with a paper salesman
There's a layoff on the horizon
and none of us know it
Files are piling up on her desk
she'll be the last one out
have to cancel plans
with her daughter
and a husband who's cheating
it's been the worst day of her life
a flu has driven
several managers home sick
they left early
after lunch
headed directly to the golf course
to get better
where a horse-faced client
will attempt to kiss four asses at once
it's friday
and possible
I watch her
answer calls
complaints
wives of plant workers
a yelling voice
needing an invoice
is causing her to want a drink
wishing
she got paid
for doing everyone else's job
or life paid money for suffering.
Her boss...
the talking head a-top the cubicle
was unhappy with our performance all week
'It's Friday, '
I say to the ink stain on his shirt.
...Get over it,
go back to your loss profit suffering
Next week
when the sun rises
again
over your incompetance
She'll be
typing poems on her computer
playing internet board games
and wishing you'd choke on your tongue
while you pay her to make you think she's busy
I'll be...
handing in the report on time
no sooner
taking cigarette breaks
when I don't smoke
and updating my resume on your dime
while you...
pit stained from perspiration
run around over worked, and under paid,
feeling sorry -someone save me- for yourself
She'll be...
looking unhappy just to fit in
leaving calls to get your coffee
with a smile
while stirring something foreign
in your cup
and the day won't kill us all
and a laugh will break the mood
after all
it's pay day
watch us collect our pay checks
one by one
surviving another week
with a smile
for we no not
of tomorrow