Magentic Poetry Bandit
Hey. It’s. Tuesday.
I’m not a big fan of Tuesdays. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I’m on ‘squad’ at the fire station and typically we have training on Tuesday nights. I sort of like having nothing to do when I get home from a soul-sucking day at work, so the less I have to deal with when I’m back in beloved Woodbury, the better.
So, that’s that.
Anyway, I mentioned a few days back that I sort of sit in a cubicle nightmare on my ‘office days.’ I’m a corporate trainer, so I’m off training nurses and doctors the ins and outs of their new computer system. FASCINATING WORK, really. Anyway, when I’m in the office I sit in the basement down with the billing cycle people amongst the other trainers on the team. It’s dead quiet and (not to use another zombie reference) it’s like Night of the Living Dead around here. The people (god bless ’em) are just a little…off.
Right. Like I’m so normal.
Anyway, I’ve got a metal cabinet-type of thing where I store the essential things for my workday: wooden Canadian back-scratcher, Chipotle napkins, iPod charger, Tabasco sauce, envelopes (for snail-mail submissions) and a coffee mug filled with loose change. On this metal cabinet, I’ve got a whole mess of Magnetic Poetry words kind of strewn about. I’ve been trying to tap into the inner poet in me (which is still M.I.A.), but have come up with a couple of little phrases. Examples:
the cold squirrel is through with winter
Not exactly award-winning. I also added:
i love me some apples
Again, I’m not going to win any Robert Frost Super Poet Awards.
But, a day after I posted my two beauties, someone infiltrated my cube (unbeknownst to me) and crafted:
you always have a warm smile every day
Hey, now! Who is doing this? At first I thought it was my manager (and very well could be), but now I’m beginning to wonder if some of the living dead around my has a penchant for poetry, tom-foolery and skullduggery.
I’d all but forgotten about it, when I came in today. There were more!!!
is birthday suit a fashion
I think someone is trying to get fresh. I really don’t think that it’s my manager anymore. There are ‘I’m-reporting-you-to-human-resources’ sorts of implications there. I couldn’t resist, so I responded with:
look but no feeling
I sort of felt like a dirty old man writing that, so I quickly removed it. I instead opted for:
who are you
Upon further inspection, I noticed that my award-winning apples phrase had been altered. It now reads:
i love me a good hard cry
Hmmm…a sensitive cubicle farmer. In the midst of the billing people in the basement of a major hospital and clinics company. I must get to the bottom of this. I must discover who this person (or group of people) is (are). I will spend at least a good half hour honing my craft and bringing out the big poetry guns with the 60 or so words I have left to choose from.
I will keep you posted.