To My Landlord


Thank you for the toilet dripping
That paint on the terrace chipping

First time meeting you were gracious
Then I saw the flat’s not spacious

“Little things” would go amiss
We never heard the steam go hiss 

Or the absent plug-in plate
That made my hair go up and straight

Then I almost met my maker
To find housing in God’s acre

How ‘bout fire in the oven
Even then you got no summons

Three full years to fix the potty
Grouting jobs were always spotty

Then there was that pesky squirrel
Made my urban dwelling rural

Yet you always had a smile
For new tenants, just a while

For us molding in your dungeon
A kind word always begrudin’

But I and “Crazy” stayed with you
Since the better rents withdrew

Your rent’s cheap; I give you that
So is cardboard box with matt

While your snow job is abuse
You leave the shovel in disuse 

You’ll make yourself scarce anyway
But then promptly come… on rent day





Refrigerator Tyrants


When the Chow Mein’s getting moldy
Pork chops looking zombie green
When the mayonnaise is an oldie
And that fossil was black bean

When the gumbo holds a white crust 
Thick enough to hold a skater
‘Til you can’t put off your disgust
You can’t blame your ‘frigerator

In such times the despots flourish
Leverage food with craft and power 
They will see you are malnourished
And your office morale sour

Tin pot dictators of fridges
Potentates, they’re self-appointed
Marching over Ruffles’ ridges
With lo-cal Caesar they’re anointed

Power-hungry managers 
Or some ego-tripping interns 
They feed on fear like scavengers
Blanching over Wednesday’s midterms

They rule that box with iron fists
Take no captives but the pound cake
Better hide your licorice twists
Or they’ll come and kill your milk shake

Sovereigns with a bit at steak
It can’t be only fungus
Their beef with us we cannot take
Though the mold spores are among us

We try to toe the corporate line
So we’re fishing for our wages
These pests want to make us whine
In our frozen Whirlpool cages

“An army marches on its stomach”
Said Napoleon under frosting
Fridge dons rout out slimy muck
Don’t they realize what it’s costing?





Micromanagers


Your client list is getting better
Propriety is first in mind
You might just be in the newsletter
If and when your ledger’s signed

We see your future looks so bright
That you might just have to wear shades
But maybe not without a fight
I mean those rude and picky raids

You know your job and know your charge
It says so much about your mettle
But Micromanager’s at large
And she’s not about to settle

She’ll dot your i’s and cross your t’s
Sick Roget and Webster on you
For her there is no good enough
Cross her enough and you are through

Soon she’ll knock you down to square one
As if you had no leg to stand on
And when you thought you had it done
That golf weekend is all but gone

“CC all your emails to me,”
Though you’ve been there since The Stone Age
“I have farmed out that doc to Lee”
Be sure to smile through your rage

“Where did I put that sticky note?”
You’ll ask yourself by second-guessing
Micro went through your desk and quote:
“A clean office space is a blessing”

She will take the freedom of _______
And then take most of yours away
You dream for word from up above
That Psycho’s not going to stay

Engage her in a conversation
On some worldly and dire matter
For her it is an aberration
There is no substance to her chatter

If she could try to let us shine
We could quash the competition
Yet first she’s got to grow a spine
Or we won’t survive attrition