...And other work-related short poetry
Hours {#hours}
Cold Coffee, gritty
And oily with time, just like
Myself as hours pass.
Nobody Knows What They Want on a Monday {#nobody-knows-what-they-want-on-a-monday}
Call on me to do
Everything you couldn’t do
But what do we do?
Sand Will Erode Hourglasses {#sand-will-erode-hourglasses}
Long conference calls;
Through thin walls, toilets KA-fwoosh;
Listen to clocks tick.
Desert Saltation {#desert-saltation}
The wind gusts outside.
Thin dusts fall from the rafters.
Thus constant cleaning.
What I’d Rather Do {#what-i’d-rather-do}
I’m not much inclined
To work this windy Monday
I’d rather get drunk.
To Quiet the Soul I {#to-quiet-the-soul-i}
To quiet the soul
In an office requires
Great concentration.
To Quiet the Soul II {#to-quiet-the-soul-ii}
It’s wise beyond years
To be quiet while they gab.
I pray for silence.
Patty’s Haiku {#patty’s-haiku}
Drop off the pizza,
Pizza man. Let me nap-nap
Well-fed and at peace.
Patty’s Haiku II {#patty’s-haiku-ii}
I got day-drunk, Evan.
Why didn’t you get drunk too?
What are weekends for?
Patty’s Haiku III {#patty’s-haiku-iii}
L.T. Litherland
Has a nice ring to it, right?
Indeed, it does, Patty.
On Adopting Foreign Poetic Forms for Jokes {#on-adopting-foreign-poetic-forms-for-jokes}
Bashō don’t know so,
But Evan is the master
Of English haiku.
Drunk on Saturday {#drunk-on-saturday}
I’m on a roll, but
Enough for one Saturday.
Thus folly ends here.
Kindly do the Needful
Forms of Canada
Split the street into number
and name apparent.
The Address model
Doesn't support this as yet
Please, do the needful.
A SQL Prayer
Our postGres who art in RedShift
Hallowed be thy syntax
Give us this day our daily ETL
And forgive us for past crashes
As we forgive your time-outs
In the name of Gates, Jobs and Torvalds.
A-men
Spreadsheet Koan
The young man straightened up from his workspace
For a moment.
He forgot all the pages and pages of spreadsheets that needed
To be
Merged,
Graphed,
Organized,
Aggregated,
Calculated,
Tabulated
Collated...
A bemused look crossed his face
As if suddenly drunk.
And he spoke these words to the empty room:
"Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair!"
The ineffectual words echoed
As he remembered that it was
TODAY(),
Not
GETDATE()
And returned to his work.
September 14, 2016
The Pit (Call Center) {#the-pit-(call-center)}
In the pit, hot and busy, is a pressure building.
Stand on the edge and you can feel it easily
The voices of several dozen phones ringing
Makes one think it’s set to run ceaselessly.
Makes one think the density of the air lends
A sort of momentum to bodies at rest
On the thinly carpeted floor to which they tend
Thrown forth to a Friday casually dressed.
Tumbling to stillness on sunny Sunday afternoons
Anticipatory electricity advances on our respite
And shocks us into recognition of that which looms:
A return to the god-accurséd, sisyphean pit.
February 2017
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