Well after a week off work I’m calm and relaxed. How I long to return to that nest of idiocy which pays the bills. My main grievance? Apart from the staggering inability to plan… the enviable ability to trust the words of outsiders talented only in speaking to beguile the credulous.
No – it’s not a cult having a disproportionate effect on managment (actually there is an amusing and mildly shocking side story about religious groups but it can’t be explored here), rather it’s the work of those happy souls the consultants. They lie, dissimulate, speak hollow and nonsensical prose – all of which is magically converted into gospel truth (yeah I know, let’s not get into that irony) by the brain of a maniac. Sigh. At least they’re not being paid tens of thousands to tell us what we already know or don’t need to know. Oh.
So… some of these mini poems were written during a period of such stress. Enjoy!
If you fancy you can follow @shankanalia on Twitter too, or just wait for the ‘collected works’ to turn up here.
Run The Flagpole Up You
Already your buzzwords
Overwhelm my will,
Meaning diffuse and vacuously aspirational.
Must kill;
Must find the fount of bullshit in your skull.
Pity the Fool
Idiot rain
Sweet tears of dismay
I pluck the sad dumb dew drop from your cheek
And laugh
Only you could be so stupid
And expect my sympathy.
Your Opinion Matters
Gash in your face,
Words fall out
In a random order.
Gobshite arseface,
Excremental monologue,
No one cares
About your funnel of rectal jabbery.
Some People Are Hard To Talk To
Do you understand the words I use?
Do they pierce your mind with meaning?
Does the brain sludge
In your thickened skull
Have a purpose?
Mud mind.
Fountain of Despair
Fountain of despair
Gloomy spray
Hiding truth from view.
Geysers of lies
Drowning the facts.
Your puddles of misbelief
Condemn us all:
Wet feet.
Dinotwat
Mesozoic moron,
Cretaceous cretin.
Skull surprisingly filled to bursting
With your tiny lizard brain.
Jurassic jerk
Soon to face extinction
Time’s Arrow
Your head’s on backwards
Or your brain’s in reverse:
If only we’d known,
If only you’d thought
Before speaking
Yesterday would have worked.
