My breakfast is splattered on my tie,
My unwashed driveway smears my shoe.
I’m afraid I’ll miss the train again,
How fast my woes accrue!
There’s pebbles in my sock again,
There’s pollen in my hair;
Why is my office door ajar?
Who’s sitting in my chair?
“Your old computer does not comply
“With the ISP of the CIO.
“It must be brought IAW
“The IA E-I-E-I-O.”
I put his words in a bowl of broth
And microwaved on high;
Now my lunch is on my shirt
And I’ll have no other ‘till July.
My zipper’s stuck, my Hanes show through;
My boss just read my blog.
The questions lurk unanswered yet,
Like pirates hiding in the fog.
At Days’ End I’m well-adorned
With food, debris, and scorn;
But of this tritely true affair
A New Day shall be born.
My breakfast is splattered on my tie.
At least I made my train.
But I should have checked my calendar:
I was supposed to be on a plane!
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