Poetry Friday.

Staff Meetings.

Repetitive and
unhelpful:  I want to stab
myself with a fork.

Feel free to jump in here -- write a haiku about something work related that you HATE.

Comments

Kudzu tendrils coil.
Spyware entwines your secrets.
Oh, if only we had known.

[cloudscome]

I rounded you up for Friday Poetry at a wrung sponge.

[MotherReader]

LOL, Leila. That's exactly how I feel about staff meetings too. Here's mine titled, Information Desk:

Restrooms are that way.
Copiers are behind you.
Thanks, college degree.

[KAS]

Sorry, I'm just a random lurker but I feel your pain. I work in academic admin so this is my life:

Beautiful spreadsheet
Perfect and pristine and right.
Shit. Computers crashed.

[KAS]

Oops ... missed my apostrophe.

[Leila]

KAS, I'll have to show yours to our AA -- she'll appreciate it. And MR, YES. (And I'm so glad you feel the same way about staff meetings.)

[Brian F.]

"No one buys my book!"
The author's lament: my fault.
Sad publicist, I.

[Cathy]

I didn't go to school-
Two years of M.L.I.S.
To answer the phone.

[Kelly]

It's depressing to know that meetings happen everywhere. I thought it was just my life. The problem is...someone must like them. Otherwise, why would they happen? Especially in the days of e-mail and wikis and the like.

The fork is good, MR. I always imagine sticking pins beneath my finger nails.

[Kelly]

I mean the fork is good, Leila. (MR I like yours too, which is why I got all confused here.)

K.

[Nonanon]

let's all drive downtown
for a staff meeting about
"greening" our buildings

I had to do that last week. Still a little bitter, if you can't tell. Have you seen the small book "Office Haiku"? It's AWESOME.

[Rachel]

Bubble-wrap, foam-packs:
I wish bookselling produced
less waste. It feels wrong.

[bookbk]

Stop, start, stop again--
We thousands sit in our cars.
"Reverse commute?" Hah!

[Emily H.]

Empty shelves, boxed books,
No computers, stop knocking:
Yes, we are still closed.

[Emily H.]

"You'll have more shelf space."
We shifted reference thrice.
Lies, lies, and back pain.

[Douglas Rees]

Foul stinking fetor
from upturned graves of traitors
Big Dick Cheney rules!

[OKP]

Compulsive liar,
I will not be your lackey --
or department chair.

[Carlo Q]

Guess the Industry: A Haiku Epic Screed

Idiotic tasks
Implementing lunacy
Daily burn my ass.

Though I am well paid,
The commerce I serve need not
Side with the angels.

The second degree
Criss-crossed weals on my hind end
Thanks to thankless tasks

Remind me my trade's
A necessary evil
Coldly weighing loss.

Know my example.
And seek different pathways
Through trade and commerce.