Mushrooms, Splinters, and Thorns

Gossip

Gossip

Another weekday afternoon in the making,
the hours seep out in faithful rows,
crowding over stalwart desks,
as resentful voices coil
around the water cooler with
bodacious gossip
whispered in loyal circles
about the quirky burnout
punching the clock,
punching the file cabinet,
punching the boss,
in the emptiness of
what he was running away from.

And my annoyance tries to clear out the rubble,
by hitting the keys with gusto,
as if this will save me from his fate
and this tittle-tattle under dimmed lights;
one ludicrous incident in fickle February
no heavier than dust on the bookshelves.