Tiny People

Thinking of a vacuum,

where fools live,

it's a fools room,

and a fools tomb.

No room for largess,

only room for despair,

leaving a mess, 

not deserving of air.

A disruption of normality,

is painful to the working world,

hurt to innocents,

and mindless concupiscence.

Disregarding all around,

is the only thought of thieves,

that's why they wilt and die,

like falling winter leaves.

Office Rodent

office rat

Burrowing through paper hallways,

looking for crumbs of cheese.

Hungry, hungry always,

never enough to feed.

Fearing the cat will come around

he digs and digs and digs.

But even if the mouse strikes gold.

The cheese is never his.

It belongs to the maze,

to build its never ending walls.

Smashing through them is the only way

but he doesn’t have the balls.

Feeling trapped isn’t just a feeling,

deep inside his brain.

It’s treadmill running and hamster wheeling,

living outside reality’s plane.

He lives in a land without the truth,

digging with his fellow mice,

transformed from a wanderer of the fields,

to capitalism’s captive lice. 

Algebra for Worms

Told and Spoken,
the sides don't seem to balance.
Perceived inconsequential token,
forgotten electron valence.

Tell them little  man,
what you're all about.
Grown up orangutan,
clay from Jesus mouth.


Thank,!, and think again,
Tiny, insignificant worm.
The universe is the true scale,
and you are just a germ.

Corporate corporealism

trying hard not to act uninspired, 

always wired,

can’t learn again till retired?

it’s a possibility,

a certainty really.

A line of faceless men,

Marching till the end,

decayed fingers can’t clutch a pen,

and that means words wasted in the wind.