Mesozoic

The middle managers are all wearing blue shirts & khakis today,
walking to their meeting in single file.
The sales guys know my name, but to me they all look the same.

Office dinosaurs
wander around the jungle of cubicles
colorful skin of polo shirts and sweater-vests
walrus-mustaches and flannel
voices modulated from 30 years
of telephone-customer-service
their lumbering gait
halts near my desk
where the jar of pretzels lies in wait
and they methodically chew and philosophize,
gathering around the watering-hole (coffee pot)
to shake their ponderous heads.
We younger mammals (of a different era)
just try to stay out of the way.

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http://www.overheardintheoffice.com is hilarious. If you’re a cubicle monkey like me, the irreverant humor and uncanny truth may save your sanity (or offend you).

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5 Comments

  1. That poem is *perfect*. I’ve had to deal with these dinosaurs for far longer than I ever dreaded I would. You just tied it all up neatly in a bow. You are a _poet_.

  2. Does anyone have the same problem I do…of people constantly walking in and out of your cube not allowing you to blog all day?

    It’s almost as if they expect me to work…like I’m getting paid to do??! 🙂