My stomach is aching, it craves for some food.
My mind is faking what feels so crude.
I look through the window and find something lewd,
A woman undressing, I know, it's quite rude.
The elephant rises and sounds out his call.
The woman finds tenderness in the zoo's mall.
The lion seems watchful of everything tall.
A baby runs wild, ready to fall.
Bosses are idiots as mine has now shown.
His hair is untidy and shirt open blown.
The work he completes is never his own,
But scolded he's never for away he has flown.
Life seems absurd when seen from afar,
As birds find their homes in the hood of a car,
And people live homeless, asleep on the tar,
While one man sleeps soundly with front door ajar.
The many who find such joy in the wrong
Seek to destroy the community's song.
They sit on the beach and count every thong.
How horrid a thought, perverts for so long.
Now driving past mall strips, I wonder for what
Meaning there is in churros so hot
Or arcades where losing just happens a lot
Like casinos and betting houses. Lucky, you're not.
The Ugliest Building
Mark Twain called the building I work in, “The ugliest building in America.” I agree. The Dwight D. Eisenhower Executive Office Building isn’t the largest in Washington, D.C., but its imposing façade makes it feel like it is. I work for the Office of E-Government and Information Technology. I have a satellite office in the bowels of this monstrosity. Working in this building gives us quick access to both the President and Vice-President because they also have offices here. This access may be why I’m in this situation, or maybe it’s the project I’m assigned to, or both.
By Mark Gagnon7 days ago in Fiction
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