Write me:
skot AT izzlepfaff DOT com

Wednesday, 24 September
Seattle Super Sonnet

My cubicle walls are nothing like much fun;
SQL queries make me wish I was dead;
I stare at my stapler, paperwork undone;
"You're pretty sad," my supervisor said.
I have seen HIPAA guidelines, black on white,
I have a presentation in two weeks,
In front of some nurses I'll dumbly recite
Boring things; they will say, "I hate how he speaks."
I love to spin in my chair, yet I know
That co-workers will grimace at the sound.
I wish that into dreamland I could go;
It happened once before, and I was fucking found.

And so, by heaven, I think my job is lame;
But surely, dear reader, I bet you'd say the same.

Wordplay | Skot | 24 Sep, 2003 |

Note: Comments are closed on old entries.


Man, even though your stories about your shitty job crack me up, you gotta find a new job. Life is too short. Your true talent is obviously your knack for snappy prose, go with it. You're good, and not just a little bit. I know nobody asked for my two cents, so you can take it or leave it.

Comment number: 003651   Posted by: dr gonzo on September 24, 2003 09:02 PM from IP:

there was once a skot from seattle,
who wrote sonnets embattled;
he said his job was hateful,
(without being ungrateful)
and left me quite shaken and rattled.

Comment number: 003652   Posted by: Forge on September 24, 2003 10:34 PM from IP:

Quit the stupid job and start a writing career. We all know you've got scads of talent. You say you're lazy, but show up for work every day...and work.

Comment number: 003653   Posted by: Marshall on September 25, 2003 05:35 AM from IP:

Aaah, I don't really hate my job. I just kind of hate it lately. I was simply exercising my natural right to aimlessly bitch about working.

Comment number: 003654   Posted by: Skot on September 25, 2003 09:16 AM from IP:

A peon named Skot wrote a sonnet
'Bout his job--he put curses upon it.
But the lines that he wrote--
Though they rhymed--wouldn't float
With all those extra syllables messing up the flow; not to mention failing to conform to the formal definition of a sonnet.

Comment number: 003655   Posted by: P. E. Dant on September 25, 2003 09:20 AM from IP:

Your true talent is obviously your knack for snappy prose

Yes, prose. But nice try.

Comment number: 003656   Posted by: WS on September 25, 2003 11:56 AM from IP:

I can feel the love today.

Comment number: 003657   Posted by: Skot on September 25, 2003 12:45 PM from IP:

I'd do you. This is high praise in some civilizations.

Comment number: 003658   Posted by: ColdForged on September 25, 2003 01:13 PM from IP:

A poem of fourteen lines: two stanzas, called the octave, being of four verses each, and two stanzas, called the sestet, of three verses each, the rhymes being adjusted by a particular rule.

Note: In the proper sonnet each line has five accents, and the octave has but two rhymes, the second, third, sixth, and seventh lines being of one thyme, and the first, fourth, fifth, and eighth being of another. In the sestet there are sometimes two and sometimes three rhymes; but in some way its two stazas rhyme together. Often the three lines of the first stanza rhyme severally with the three lines of the second. In Shakespeare's sonnets, the first twelve lines rhymed alternately, and the last two rhyme together.

**Sniff!** Right then.

Comment number: 003659   Posted by: The Editor on September 25, 2003 03:41 PM from IP:

Gee, I thought I was the only one who wrote sonnets about hatin' cubicle life:

Comment number: 003660   Posted by: Robin on September 26, 2003 06:26 AM from IP:

With regard to your reply I draw your attention to Comment No 0001531 of 25 Sept 2003 on your site wherein some scallywag calling him/her self P E Dant has submitted a pathetic piece of witless doggerel in reply to some other equally witless clot; desist I say! My name is not for useless drivel!

Yours &c,.
P E Dant
P.S. It's not April 1st but I am having a lend of you!

Comment number: 003661   Posted by: P E Dant on May 13, 2004 04:46 PM from IP:

Post a comment