(a stout rendition of Captain Oh Captain)

Mine eyes espy the glory per the ending
of another work day beckon Bailys Irish Creme
with Absolut certainty that Fireball named Brandy
the Patron Crown Royal abets dream
quest proof positive to expunge stressful Boss
distilling this cooked Grey Goose a gleam
with nary a clue how my ceaseless toiling efforts
play within the lager corporation scheme
assigning exemplary skills and talents within
what appears to be a ******* up losing team.

No exit out this grueling twenty first century rat trap
whereby Scotch chief en gin that air
except to drawn displeasure and wallow in sorrows
downing ***** or house brand beer
despite  drunken state erodes axons and synapses
snap like chattering teeth of broken gear
quickly cause tenuous grasp on queasy reality,
sanity, and tenacity rent asunder and tear.

Now that work day done at long last, not a moment
to tally date with Jack Daniels to delay
this linkedin the conga line wants to wash away
sounds of barked orders *** bling – may
king me insides writhing with anger as if type cast
in diabolical formidable, horrible play
whereby each active scene increases assistance
for Johnny Walker to glide and sashay.

Argh, how those last remaining minutes to escape
hubbub tick away at the pace of a snail
to these myopic eyes, which suspect manager
surreptitiously turns back clock hands male
lush hiss lee deliberately toys with sanity, thus
seek counsel from Jimmy Beam without fail
when super ***** ping head honcho will cease
cheap trick renouncing cruel act with ale.

Without sh malt s, Hops, skips and jumps
inebriation welcomes me by rendering taps
receding thoughts of being bound, cramped,  
and emulsified in dark cubicle Schnapps
as if invisible taut cord tears into virtual tatters
and this life of Wry lee loosed like *****
from shredded material trailing a tail that
rivals tales of Aesop's.

That  ambler liquid of the gods soothes palate
and tongue helps a  comfortably numb
feeling to settles within thine body electric
dulling the senses with heavy eye lids plum
met to close shut tight riding the wave of ecstasy,
reflecting about dad and late mum
though come the morrow, a hang over with
sensation akin to Gunter Grass loud internal tin drum.

Upon rising sober with total amnesia sans
pandering as a buffoon
realizing fallacious gimcrackery while ensconced
in fermented cocoon
an email fried off from the top dog quickly
reminded yours truly how I did goon
off the rails, perhaps cuz of living within
a trackless caboose sized wife named June.