Our conductor, name tag and tie,
Marker pen baton, spouting, spy
Every bee who’s half asleep, lie,
And brave the morning allegro.
His cuffs tight, mouth flapping,
Coffee clerks begin tapping
Square minds, overlapping
To print, report, file, (don’t) retort.
Harmonising phone calls,
Thin colour, cold walls
Our people thrive, enjoying all
The music of the office.
Fingers dance, alphabet synergy,
Listen to our Prophet, margin your
Ambitions to reach that scatter point
Target. It’s written in permanent (don’t th)ink, just sign here.
There’s something orchestral about the 9 to 5 office job. I’ve been both fortunate and unfortunate to have experience the lifestyle and despite the time not entirely being enjoyed, there was harmony and rhythm to it all.