now it dawns on me
a sense of immense meaning
I left my job to write poetry

The Job:
[ they were a bunch of creeps
and they set new standards
in frightening non logic
on a regular basis
it was like their goal
was to surpass themselves
IT HAD TO BE PLANNED
WITH REGULAR MEETINGS
UNDER THE MOON
SACRIFICING GOATS
ON AN ALTAR]
I had enough

about a year before the axe fell
I stopped performing
most of my duties
in late, out early
that was my motto
I received compliments
on my summer tan
from many hours spent
on the golf course
since ***** looks were free
I accepted them with a smile

living off savings
and whatever public dole is available
the sixty eight year old me
may curse his sixty year old version
too bad
fate got me this far
fate will propel