(no subject)
im at lunch.
im sitting at my desk.
pretending to be in a cafe
listening to french music
wishing i had someone
to go to lunch with
I have no clue to what they
are saying on the “radio.”
sometimes working with
a bunch of strange women
is no fun.
they think im the strange one
but they really are...
i can tell.
maybe i should go
somewhere for lunch.
i guess a restaurant
would get mad if
i asked them to
heat up last
nights leftovers.
maybe if i brang
a checkered table cloth
and a bottle of wine
it would seem more like
lunch instead of
sitting at my desk
trying not to make
eyecontact
with anyone
in the office.
i guess i should curse
my 8th grade graphics
arts teacher
it was there we
learned to set type
and print little
business cards
and do silkscreen prints
...
maybe had i not cut biology all the time and actually cut that frog
i would be a leading plastic surgeon and drive an H3 and run over Lé Cars for fun.
no i went the fine arts route and now look at me,
a bitter, bitter prime number!
im sitting at my desk.
pretending to be in a cafe
listening to french music
wishing i had someone
to go to lunch with
I have no clue to what they
are saying on the “radio.”
sometimes working with
a bunch of strange women
is no fun.
they think im the strange one
but they really are...
i can tell.
maybe i should go
somewhere for lunch.
i guess a restaurant
would get mad if
i asked them to
heat up last
nights leftovers.
maybe if i brang
a checkered table cloth
and a bottle of wine
it would seem more like
lunch instead of
sitting at my desk
trying not to make
eyecontact
with anyone
in the office.
i guess i should curse
my 8th grade graphics
arts teacher
it was there we
learned to set type
and print little
business cards
and do silkscreen prints
...
maybe had i not cut biology all the time and actually cut that frog
i would be a leading plastic surgeon and drive an H3 and run over Lé Cars for fun.
no i went the fine arts route and now look at me,
a bitter, bitter prime number!