When I was young my bra was just
A thing I wore for show.
I'd let the lace and satin peek
And try to catch a beau.

Today the lace has been replaced
By fabric not as sweet.
Plain cotton now prevents my chest
From sagging to my feet.

I wish my chest would sag alone,
But it has company.
My stomach, chin and other parts
Have joined its cruel soiree.

You'd think with so much gravity
That wrinkles would erase.
Instead they seem to multiply
At an ungodly pace.

I know that the alternative
To this could be much worse.
I'm glad they're racing to my toes
Instead of to a hearse!

Good morning, little cubicle
How grim and grey you are:
An input-poor environment
For those who won't go far.

Your fuzzy-textured fabric walls
Mute sound and light and air
So people can sneak up on me—
I never know they're there.

A rearview mirror perches on
My monitor's left flank,
But sometimes I forget to look
While arguing with the bank.

My boss creeps up on silent shoes
And peers around your frame
To see if I'm at work
Or playing Angry Birds again.

And though you muffle noises
That I would prefer to hear,
My neighbor's calls to girlfriends
Always come in loud and clear.

He slyly teases, flatters, flirts,
Suggests disgusting things,
And then repeats it all again
The next time his phone rings.

Between these conversations
(If a minute should elapse)
He calls his crew to view his screen:
They laugh till they collapse.

And when the boss does shuffle off
To his side of the maze,
There never is a reprimand,
Just attaboys and praise.

I wish I had a slingshot
And a few exploding eggs—
I'd launch myself across the wall
And bomb him till he begs.

I hate my job, I hate my life,
I hate what I'm becoming.
I think I'll cross the Rubicle
And take up native drumming.

It was only just the other day, must I tell you this again?
I was sitting quietly at my desk, and I was bored out of my brain...
Come on, I've told you countless times the story of that day!
OK, I'll tell you one more time, if it makes you go away.

As I think I mentioned just before - the day was long and slow.
At least until it was disturbed, by a quite unearthly bellow.
I looked up from my place of work and was just in time to see,
A thing come crashing through the wall, most unexpectedly.

So there it stood, the king of beasts - a Tyrannosaurus Rex!
I must admit I was surprised, and had to clean my specs.
But no, my vision was correct, and a dinosaur it was,
One not seen for quite some time; well at least the late Cretaceous.

It stomped across the office space, leaving footprints on the floor,
And quickly gobbled up my boss as he ran blindly for the door.
My colleagues screamed and tried to flee, but Rexy was too quick.
It squished a few, and munched some more. Me? I just felt sick.

Then the creature crashed away again, past desks and office plants,
I'm sad to say when I looked down, I saw I'd wet my pants.
I know, my story seems far fetched, and that you may think I'm mad,
But I was happy at my work, and my colleagues weren't bad.

So release me from this padded room, as it really isn't fun,
I did not do these things you say... no, I do not own a gun.
You say I made the whole thing up? Well Sir, that goes to show -
I guess you have to do your job...

...but it wasn't me, oh no.

my car pulls in at half past eight
there’s reason why I’m never late
it’s rude to make your doctor wait
when you have come to explicate

I duck below a fruitful sneeze
a sniffling man begins to wheeze
surrounded by the sick I freeze
and hope I don’t catch some disease

the clock strikes ten and I’m annoyed
I grab another cheap tabloid
this waiting room is now devoid
of patients I tried to avoid

another hour and I’m still here
my doctor has yet to appear
the fact that no one cares is clear
their welcome sign is insincere

at noon I walk up to the nurse
while holding back an angry curse
I ask her in a voice that’s terse
to give me service or a hearse

she slowly tightens up her smile
my stomach’s filling up with bile
she asks me to be versatile
continuing to wait a while

eventually my doc appears
amidst a smattering of cheers
but what he says brings me to tears
and echoes in my doubting ears

he leaves and I begin to crack
I feel anxiety attack
can you believe this lying quack
has gone golfing and won’t be back

My son is at such a delightful young age
Voraciously curious, wanna-be sage
We have deep discussions of toadstools and Russians
And one of them had a surprise repercussion

My son wondered what did I call my, um, "member"
I told him, and hoped that he wouldn't remember
I said mine's named Winky, and yours is named Dinky
(Don't know where he learned this, but he waved a pinky)

A couple months passed, and it seemed he forgot
His world's full of puzzles and books that we bought
The dinosaurs' eon, a painting in neon
And lessons in carpentry, cooking, and Freon

In spring, I began to campaign for a place
On the local school board, and I ran quite a race
I went without pause, spoke for a good cause,
And found every speech that I gave drew applause

One day I was speaking before a huge crowd
I'd just gotten up, and was feeling quite proud
The town was all there; I felt a mass stare
A hush fell, but whispers were heard everywhere

A small finger suddenly rose 'bove the fray
My son yelled, "Hey, Winky", while pointing my way
And when I looked down, my eyes grew quite round
For Winky was winking at all of the town!

My favourite jeans, they are too tight,
I don't believe this can be right,
They must have shrunken in the wash,
So into them I'll have to squash.

I surely can't have put on weight,
So with the scales I make a date,
I try to squint but can't change that
The BMI chart says, "You're Fat."

The time has come this diet must start,
Throw out that cake and lemon tart,
The food that's in the fridge says, "No,"
So to the market I must go.

There's no McDonald's now for me;
Low carbohydrates and fat free.
No healthy food at Pizza Hut,
All fast food chains to me are shut.

Go to the gym to work it off
But running seems to make me cough,
"Why don't you try to row instead?"
The slim-line gym instructor said.

I cannot take this any more,
My beer belly's won the war,
So no more exercise or diet,
I may be fat, but life's a riot.

My boyfriend cried
When last we parted,
”˜Cos the final straw
Was the fact that he farted.

A little poof here,
A little phut there …
He’d let them off
Without a care.

Now I’m a steady sort of girl.
A little silent air escapes
From time to time; a cloudy swirl,
But mine are sweet; they smell of grapes.

His gassy, odious, fumes are filled
With toxins from the beer he drinks.
I only wish that he could smell
His own distinctive noxious stinks!

His wafty perfume fills the room,
When letting go an odorous whopper.
I’ve tried him on some medication;
And even a cork to use as stopper.

But gasses have a way of hissing
Out of confined colonic spaces.
So he polluted up my air,
Much to chagrin and reddened faces.

I loved him despite all of this
And, though it irked, accepted him
When he proposed on bended knee
And let one rip. I must be dim!

But standing at the altar there
In dress and veil, with coiffured hair;
My bouquet clasped, my eyes adore;
He again let rip a thunderous roar!

Yes … my boyfriend cried
When last we parted,
”˜Cos the final straw
Was the fact that he farted!

Each morning while in slumber deep
My body begging for more sleep
I'm awakened by a loud call
From Baby's bedroom down the hall

Blinking, I stumble through that door
I trip across the toy strewn floor
I'm greeted by an awful sight
A child whose diaper leaked last night

Quick, change the child and change the sheet
Fix everyone something to eat
A load to wash, a load to dry
Blow a big kiss; tell Daddy, "Bye."

Give Cheerios when she yells "More!"
Watch Baby throw them on the floor
I pick them up and I say, "Stop"
She spills her milk: it's time to mop

Breakfast over, I wash her tray
And put her on the floor to play
Turn to the dishes in the sink
Then stop to get her some more drink.

Sucked up Teddy with the vacuum
Blew more dust in my living room
Stopped her tantrum, brushed off the fur
Gave dusty Teddy back to her

I'd really like to wash my hair
And maybe get clean underwear
"In your playpen, play with your toys."
Oh, No! What was that crashing noise?

That's how it goes till six o'clock
When I answer your front door knock
You examine the mess and say,
"What did you do at home all day?"

I must confess I hate my boss.
He makes me want to puke on him.
If he goes, it's no big loss.
But the opportunity's slim.

I dream of stapling him to death.
I'd prick his lips with paper clips.
Shred him as he gasps for breath
Wrap him tight with moldy payslips.

These evil thoughts I barely hide
As I sit and type reports all day.
My cheeks hurt with a grin so wide.
I nod when asked if I'm okay.

On the way to somewhere,
I took a taxi cab
He took off in a hurry,
but didn't know the way.
First South, then, East,
then up, then down
With me screaming in the back.

His GPS is set now,
Now we'll really go,
To someplace called Norcross
Down in Venezuala?
Now North, now west,
now here, now there
With me screaming in the back.

The thunder is a rumbling,
the lightning is a flashing
the rain it is a pouring,
is that a tornado up a head.
Go on, go back,
go round and round,
With me screaming in the back.

We landed on a witch,
and set the munchkins free.
We must drive the yellow road,
and pick fares up on the way
We're off to see the Wizard
With me screaming in the back