Poems and Poetry

The Office | A Poem by Stan Morrison

My wall calendar is still set on last May
I have redefined the word disarray
The desk is the final resting place for the unresolved
the past due, the neglected and the uninvolved
the unopened, the marked urgent and never done
a sea of pamphlets, journals and manila envelopes
it’s all waiting patiently to see what develops
I know exactly where everything is that I need
And I can lay my hands on it in lightning speed
so, all you obsessive, organized, neatnik types can go to hell
because when you guys straighten up, NO ONE CAN TELL!


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