Free Coffee

Every sense is being eroded away
by this stale atmosphere
until I become just another grey face
answering the phone
realising that I've achieved nothing
and never will.
They provide us with free coffee
which we're supposed to be grateful for
but all it does is heighten the despair.
The only way out of this place is up the corporate ladder
-- where you'll get to harvest fresh souls --
or suicide.
These thoughts make me feel masochistic
so I grab a free coffee
it makes me want to shit.
I slip away to the toilet
it won't flush
I look at the bowl:
it says more than any yearly review
and I know it's time to knot the noose.

The Cat's Eyes

There’s a dead cat outside
slowly decaying in the scorching heat
a crow flies down and examines it
begins pecking at its lifeless eyes
I’m watching all this from my office
surrounded by needless stress
at the mercy of broken air conditioning
how I wish I were that cat.

Torture

Working in an office full of women is any man’s hell

the sense of humours are too different

you have to throw endless caution to the wind

and the worse thing is that you can’t stare

scrub that

the worst thing is that my desk faces the filing cabinet

all day I’m subjected to temptation

there’s bending over

relentless wiggling

this could truly be any man’s heaven

but there’s constantly female eyes watching me from behind

“That Benny’s a real pervert” they’d whisper

“He was looking down the back of your low slung trousers” they’d tell

I can afford the quickest of glimpses

from the very corner of my straining eye

but the frustration kills me

it’s worse than nothing at all

I need to move desks.

Every Day in the Office

This office surrounds me with mediocrity

conversations are banal at best

I sink into my chair and try to fight the boredom

I take on some filing and lose

I look out the window at the office across the road

see endless reflections of myself

soul after soul at similar desks

clutching on to nothing

they never dreamt of this as a kid

a gang of three boys and a girl go past

they’re carrying crates of beer

lucky, young, free bastards

that girl will be crying by the end of the day

even the best male friend can break a girl's heart

the girls in this office are full of anxiety

all think they’re too fat

I’d fuck every single one of them

apart from the bitch of a boss

I do have some morals

lunchtime comes and there’s a stay of execution

there’s nowhere to go except the supermarket

the trolley collectors look blissfully happy

who argues with you over a trolley?

I sit in my car and eat my sandwiches

I’m surrounded by doppelgangers

all wondering where it went wrong

brushing the crumbs from their seats

I get back to the office

those damn kids are probably drunk now

that girl’s discovering what lies ahead from men

I’m sorting out the photocopier

I win the heartbreak stakes by a shade.