Snivel Service
A Scatalogical Elegy
I hear daily the grunts and groans
Of middle-aged men trying to squeeze excrement
From the bowels of their own indecision
I see daily the walking wounded
Huffing and straining to mount the stairs
Leading to nowhere, but their self-imposed nightmare
I smile daily at featureless women in shapeless outfits
With fruitless wombs, standing motionless
In the horrible vacuum of sexless despair
I walk daily through the corridors of incompetence
A sentence imposed, a purgatory of posture
Elevation via cables, a cabal in the executive suite
