The Company Pen
When I clicked the company pen,
I did not know it would fall apart
in my hands, that a spring would meet
the lady in the hallway and shake
her hand, that the ink would spill
on my new pants--my leg, my arm.
My boss walks by with his coffee
and grin, says:
"Looks like you've made a mess!"
This is when I look at the heavens
and instead of God, a sprinkler.
Properly, I bow to the shiny garden hose
above my head and pray for his baptism—
the father, the son and the holy ghost.
He walks off, while the lady in the hall
Kneels to pick up the projectile
That recently fondled her breasts.
Meanwhile, a war breaks out in South America
And a family is forced to dig their own graves
Before being shot, and covered up.
Kerry James Evans
Friday, May 26, 2006
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1 comment:
So... another uneventful day in the office? A fine poem, looking forward to more.
cheers,
d.i.
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