I.T. Man

A man in a yellow-and-black flannel shirt sits at his desk, phone to his ear, wearing a tired “here we go again” look. On his computer screen, a man with spiked sandy hair speaks with visible derision.

I.T Man


Won’t you give me a call back

if you can

I’m feeling too goddamn

jolly


I have to make a decision

but need to hear your derision

about what a dumbass I am


Life ain’t as easy for us, you see

Who lack your superiority


My job is to input data

something simple anyone can do

my tasks are few


I just don’t understand why

I have to figure out something new

to input the same “I owe you”

three times a week

and leave a voicemail

with a customer on the line


My existence is symbiotic functionality

masquerading as productivity

with others annoyed with

the inconsequence of others


I am just a tool

trying to play by the rules


but policies keep changing

without any explaining

and the devices I use

are always breaking


It wouldn't be all so painstaking

if all the problems I am facing

didn't come with the words

“what the fuck did you do?”

Oh hi there 👋
It’s nice to meet you.

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