Thursday, December 4, 2014

Brother, Do You Feel Me?

photo @ mark seliger

Brother, Do You Feel Me?

“A word to the wise ain’t necessary, it’s the stupid
ones that need the advice.”--Bill Cosby.

I can dig it, for you
         get it that there are milestones
                  in all our vocational careers, when we
                                 were forced to push the employee envelope,
                  & with pride we recall how we took it effortlessly
          to the next level, blowing the admin argyles off,
& just before we raised, then planted our flag,
after a bout of LOL,
we bent over & presented the new moon
                  as a complex disguised disruptive innovation;

all the while those corporate-clone boss-ass bitches
                              be saying, There is no “I” in team,
                              & laying down that rancid line of BS
                              as thick as a brick, but what really funnels down
                                                 after you break through the clutter,
                                                 IIRC, is none of those A-holes
have an adequate knowledge base themselves;
                               their only real leverage is residency
                                                 in the corner office, as they advocate
for sweat equity instead of a fair dollar appropriate compensation,

& even tho, Yo, I may not be the one
to bring the elephant to the party, everyone knows that
             their lame-ass attempts to incentivize
             are just the lip gloss on the sticking post,
                   just the SOS on a different day, with a
                                                different wrapper, but still
possessing the same odefourous pungent wonderfulness--

which always spikes my BP,
                      chaps my cheeks, because 
                      I am the real deal,
                      I put it out there 24/7,
                      I live outside the box, running raw & rogue,
                              only honoring the most strategic of alliances,
                              never blowing my own bugle, moving
the damn goalposts when necessary, promulgating as much truth
as the project will bear, always aware of the cloud cover while
trying to by God avoid that blue-sky thinking, just
                               pretending to be proactive, mumbling
                                         10/4 while thinking FU, because
company men, as a general rule, collectively as a group,
               get hung up on circular speculation, using confusing
               government or corporate-speak, always rebranding;

I swear to Jesus, they would not
recognize an original thought
if it entered their various ignorant orifices 
with fresh teeth clanking & clarion voice overrides, while
               they tell you they are available for face time,
               that their door is always open, even as
               they calibrate their escape strategy, preaching
brotherhood, family, fellowship
               while practicing good old boy cronyism, 
                                         sad sexism,
                                         robust racism &
                                         diligent dishonesty. 

At the end of the day my attention span goes AWOL
as I imagine launching a SAM into the board room
                to eradicate the hypocrisy, while allowing
                            my own perception of
                            my own empowerment off the leash,
                            my angst, exorcising
                            my rage, as I force a Cheser-cat smile
                 & just pretend to put my shoulder to the wheel,
                 march in obedient lock-step,
give sweet lip service to the holistic approach, &
                 continue to salute perfectly when
                 it is my turn on the runway,               & I feel no remorse,
                                                for the great apes in the eagle’s nest
busily planning their next intervention,
                         their next misrepresentation,
                         their next lay-off, lie, or manipulation, they
will always be guilty of FTP,
                         to fess-up,
                         to give it to us straight instead of through
chaotic circumnavigation, forever avoiding
                          or dismissing the FAQ.

I mean, IANAL, & I don’t often stand on my soapbox,
but my clearest goal while laboring
in the trenches, was to just make it lunch,
                                 to get through the day,
                                                        the week
                                                         the month, the year,
then snag my annual bonus, prop up my calendar,
                                              plan my vacation, & then start again,
chipping away at the decades,
put in my Fifty & exit on two feet stage right before
                                              my carcass assumed room temperature.

BTW, FYI, I HTH, & I do promise to SYA,
as you practice CYA.
because before you know it,
you will be joining me in the ranks of AOU, 
             as a retiree, & you will take ownership
             of the time you have left; & may it be
                               a long pole rather than a short stump. So
my free advice, worth what you pay for it, 
             is to get busy & calibrate your expectations
                 to match my own, so that you can efficiently organize
                                your new Permanent Duty Station.

I do promise to honor the proposed dividend,
& meet you on Thursday mornings at IHOP
for commiseration & swapping of war stories.
TTYL, & remember to squeeze it easy. 

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over on dVerse Poets MTB

Would you like to hear the author read this poem to you?


Björn Rudberg said...

Ha Glen.. love the mixture of the corporate lingo into a beat poem.. If you can't beat 'em join 'em I would say.. Just maybe you'll have a few corporate A-holes like me understand its message..

Claudia said...

ha - there's much to say about those corporate-clone boss-ass bitches...and i see you had some fun with it..smiles

Anonymous said...

Wow! there's some serious heat in here, for sure. Great job, Glenn ... smiles.


HA said...

First, I really liked the use of acronyms.
And the struggle of daily life in corporate as emphasized in your words draw a picture of intrigue and deep understanding of how it all works. Wonderful.

Marina Sofia said...

Now that's what I call a corporate rap! I can feel your anger - and that's about how I feel right now, too. I love the beat of this one and Tthe use of acronyms is inspired.

Anonymous said...

so much of this is what i went through at work, you really got it all. i bet if we sat down and talked about this stuff, we'd have a lot in common.

focused implementation

Anonymous said...

A hard hitting poetic piece
and a mixture of corporate language that flows smoothly.

Very creative and imaginary piece my friend. You always get me thinking and making me feel inspired. :)

lynndiane said...

Glenn, when you have something in your craw, you certainly know how to spit it out!

Wolfsrosebud said...

BTW, FYI, I HTH, & I do promise to SYA,... nice you added these... you must have spent hours on this... wasn't kinda fun

Grandmother (Mary) said...

OMG I LOL at this! Brilliant.

humbird said...

The mixture to impress someone with 24/7 I worry about your well being ~ LOL x

Anonymous said...

I think I used to work there... I figured this would be a good prompt for you, Glenn. Nailed it.

Anonymous said...

Great rant, Glenn. Love how you threw in IHOP as part of the corporate lingo

Kathy Reed said...

You are so good at this...missed it the other that you used Bruce as a jumping off point...he's a tower amongst all the rest.