Another Poem Written on Company Time

Jesus, the philosopher (I don't
call him the Son of God, but
that's another poem), once told
his fans, "For the wages of sin
is death."

I sit here at my desk at work,
a career paper pusher for Uncle
Sam, thinking I'd much rather
plunder, rape, murder, pillage,
fuck, gamble and consume drugs
24-7-365 than work 8-to-5 for
40 years in a boring office,
plus be a goody two shoes the
whole time, and fucking die

Robert W. Howington