Desk-Fever

by Robert Dunn

I must go down to my desk again, where my bosses' demands fester,
And all I ask is a CRT and a blotter of polyester . . .
Plus a ringing phone, a philosopher's stone, a wastebasket made of teak.
And the cheery news that my superior has called in sick all week.

I must go down to my desk again, my home away from home--
Where, for an incredibly laughable wage, I work my brain to the bone
Ensnaring unwary customers with legalistic paper muzzles.
At length I get a coffee break and a bootleg crossword puzzle.

I must go down to my desk again, where my paperwork cascades
And turns radioactive from the fallout from aborted corporate raids
And all I ask is not getting caught photocopying resumes
'Til I land myself a better job--preferably one that pays.

(See ''Sea-Fever'' by John Masefield.)

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