on the clock

I never work, I only write

These poems at my job

I‘d rather quit or kill myself

Than do things at my job

If I get paid

then please, in vain

I do what I must not

I read the things I shouldn‘t read

I‘m always on the clock

I‘m under threat, I‘ll lose my job

They‘ll throw me on the street

The food I eat

The shit I write

Will never be complete

So if I work it‘s all for me

I‘ll never make a dime

As long as I‘m a slave to wage

I‘ll write on company time

And where my stool

Will let me sit

Depends on where I stand

But where I stand depends on me

I‘m aiming where to land