Harken unto thee all ye cubicled rats
Furrowed brows
And mortgage rows
A cocktail of sneezes, wheezes and white lights

Leave me the soil under my fingernails
The monsoon and snakes,
Just spare me from the circle-backs
And obituary emails

Hallowed be the slow mornings
Birdsong breaking the dawn
A soul full of tea
Softly resting chin on knee

Save us from the flood of empty words
Of formality and plastic smiles
The glorification of busy
Crumble the ancient hierarchy

Let us wander home.