Clean suit on straight lovely pants
Screaming tie, transforming into a noose
An Italian leather briefcase ejects a suffocating Mac laptop
Spreadsheets pop out multiple eight-digit figures
A lean workforce trembles, a fat board expects
All sat, listening to slides brimming with lies
In the crowded work room, the boss has been alone all the while
Profit is squatting nearby, seeking a new abode
The workforce is dying, beaten ill by the boss’ ire
The boss’ SUV outside exudes pity, unable to help
The board has slept with juicy tales all year long
All sat, waiting for the pregnant magic of transformation
But the spreadsheet figures are not adding up, they won’t
The board is spitting eight-digit curses upon the payroll
Profit is standing afar, winking at new spinsters
In the crowded work room, the boss has been alone all the while
The meeting disperses like the aftermath of war
The bourgeois boss sheds tears under the corporate almond tree
The pillars will collapse like a weak house in the woods
It’s time to redeem the lies, to roll up the sleeves
But the beaten workforce will care no more
And the boss feels the biting hollowness of the pyramid top
In the crowded work room, the boss has been alone all the while
This is remarkable. Your repetition of the single line ‘In the crowded work room, the boss has been alone all the while’ grows in resonance as the lies of empty (manipulated?) success spill out. The way in which you bring a sense of glowering humanity to the malignant ‘profit’ and the SUV which seems to express pity only seeks to heighten the fall from grace. This boss – this board – these workers – all unnamed – fill these lines with their characters and their failure. Stunning.
Many thanks. 🙂
I am hoping that someday, I might have a full collection of poems like this.