102 Work poems

The best job I had was moving a stone from one side of the road to the other. This required a permit which required a bribe. The bribe took all my salary. Yet because I hadn’t finished the job I had no salary, and to pay the bribe I took a job moving the stone the other way. Because the official wanted his bribe, he gave me a permit for the second job. When I pointed out that the work would be best completed if I did nothing, he complimented my brain and wrote a letter to my employer suggesting promotion on stationery bearing the wings of a raptor spread in flight over a mountain smaller than the bird. My boss, fearing my intelligence, paid me to sleep on the sofa and take lunch with the official who required a bribe to keep anything from being done. When I told my parents, they wrote my brother to come home from university to be slapped on the back of the head. Dutifully, he arrived and bowed to receive his instruction, at which point sense entered his body and he asked what I could do by way of a job. I pointed out there were stones everywhere trying not to move, all it took was a little gumption to be the man who didn’t move them. It was harder to explain the intricacies of not obtaining a permit to not do this. Just yesterday he got up at dawn and shaved, as if the lack of hair on his face has anything to do with the appearance of food on an empty table.

Three men met at a tavern table.  One was a weaver, another a carpenter and the third a ploughman. Said the weaver, “I sold a fine linen shroud today for two pieces of gold.  Let us have all the wine we want.” “And I,” said the carpenter, “I sold my best coffin.  We will have a great roast with the wine.” “I only dug a grave,” said the ploughman, “but my patron paid me double.  Let us have honey cakes too.” And all that evening the tavern was busy, for they called often for wine and meat and cakes.  And they were merry. And the host rubbed his hands and smiled at his wife; for his guests were spending freely. When they left the moon was high, and they walked along the road singing and shouting together. The host and his wife stood in the tavern door and looked after them. “Ah!” said the wife, “these gentlemen!  So freehanded and so gay! If only they could bring us such luck every day!  Then our son need not be a tavern-keeper and work so hard.  We could educate him, and he could become a priest.”

At the end of year review i list my accomplishments which look impressive on paper i don't list what they cost nobody asks everybody has the same list nobody says what it cost

fourteen minutes until the meeting ends i am tracking it in the corner of my screen like a countdown to something good which it is fourteen minutes now twelve this is how i spend my days

I submitted a PTO request for three days and felt guilty about it for a week before i took them on the first day off i answered two emails which defeated the purpose i'm working on this

i took a sick day and spent it answering emails which defeats the whole point but there was this meeting that only i could cover so i covered it sick in my pajamas which was at least honest

You're on mute you're on mute you're still on mute this is forty percent of my job now the rest is waiting for the share screen to load

11pm still at the laptop the apartment smells like delivery food there's a meeting at 8am i'll be there i'll be fine i'm always fine

I cleared my inbox once completely it took three days and it was empty for about two hours then it started filling up again i've never done that again

Excited to announce thrilled to share humbled to be recognized as i'm not sure any of us are this excited about work but we're all performing it on the same platform