Instead I shuffled off toward my job
(leeching little life from radio’s wiles),
Sat in my cubicle, answered emails,
Took calls, called shots, most of which were small,
Mundane, of little consequence. And while
I always tried to do my best, at end
Of day I’d lost so much to waste,
My puny fight ‘gainst entropy unwon,
And still to lose. I shuffled home, then
Microwaved some food, watched video,
Paid homage to the goods that fence me in
And hinder me from seeing the sublime
In humble living, mastery of self,
Right conduct, purity of heart,
And noble deed. Indulged on, fat
And restless, I hied myself to bed
So I could rest to do it all again,
And leave yet more undone.

In factories and bathroom stalls,
Farmer’s fields and city halls,
This interloper all men calls.