My Job Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

And...
What is it that you are doing?

'My job.'

Your job?
Staring at people?

'No.
You are to be corrected.
I am an admirer of exquisite beauty.
Why?
You don't think I am doing my job well? '

I just think what you are doing is rude.

'Then perhaps you should see to it,
That I get fired.
Or laid,
Off.
Or maybe both.
Send me to your human resources.
If you don't think I am qualified.'

Where on Earth did you come from?

'I feel the same way.'

I really didn't mean it as a question.

'Oh? '

No!
I meant it as a...
Don't you have something else to do?

'You're the boss.
What would you like for me to do for you next? '

You're not doing a thing for me.

'Oh?
So you are saying I'm not doing my job? '

You're doing your job.
But I am not interested.

'So...
You want to get me laid off,
Don't you?
Or fired...
Without benefits.'

In a few minutes I am going to switch from this,
And change my company!

'I see?
That's why so many of us are out of jobs right now.
You use us for what you can get from us...
And then you move!
Taking away with you all the benefits.

I will find another job!
But you?
You are definitely going to miss,
My capable abilities.