I can’t believe that you dare
turn this in to me.
I produce more (and better)
while reading the paper on the john
in the thin morning light.
Never again put such a paltry
sliver of labor on my plate.
I want a full slab,
something still bloody and
pulsing with the effort
of a full day’s toil.
I want both of us to know
you’ve swapped this fair
irretrievable day for
a valiant, stunning battle
against your own God-given mediocrity.
Life is too short
(you soulless lout)
for anything less
than sacrifice.
This poem was originally published in WRITERS' Journal
Featured image: "Quarters of the news editor", one of a group of four photos in the 1900 brochure Seattle and the Orient, which was collectively captioned "The Seattle Daily Times — Editorial Department".
