Monday, November 14, 2005

rock out with your ad clock out

timesheets timesheets, why doth thou torture me so
with your dockets and numbers and complex codes?
you rudely expose my true calling as a creative ho,
paid to write enough silly lines to pave all life's roads.

my professional days are defined by billable time:
this week i've been assigned a good fifty seven hours,
to pen whiny self-indulgent little poems that rhyme,
i mean, clever one-liners about torque and horsepower.

so every monday i struggle with the formidable Ad-Clock
and pray that this week my time sheets don't get rejected
after all, along with all the brilliance and eurekas! and smart talk
a little (i mean, alot) of thumb-twiddling better be expected.


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