There once was a man named Pop,
Who always went out to mop.
He thought his mop was too chubby,
So he went to give it to Bubbie.
Bubbie went out to mop,
When suddenly she halted to a stop.
She thought her mop was too thin,
So she dumped it back in the bin.
Bubbie accidentally stepped in some gue,
But didn’t know what to do.
Picking her foot up didn’t work,
So she went to call the clerk.
The workers came rushing over,
As to playing the game Red Rover.
They went to get the mop,
When surprisingly, they fell to a plop.
They quickly picked up the mop,
And started to swop.
Bubbie’s foot came twirling out,
Then Pop walked out cheering about.
Pop fooled Bubbie,
She now got really mad,
Then Pop had realized,
What he had done was bad.

There once was a man named Pop,
Who always went out to mop.
He thought his mop was too chubby,
So he went to give it to Bubbie.
Bubbie went out to mop,
When suddenly, she halted to a stop.
She thought her mop was too thin,
So she dumped it back in the bin.
Bubbie accidently stepped in some glue,
But didn't know what to do.
Picking her foot up didn't work,
So she went to call the clerk.
The workers came rushing over,
As to playing the game red rover.
They went to get the mop,
And finally started to swap.
Bubbie's foot came twirling out,
When Pop walked out,
Cheering about.
He had been spying on Bubbie,
So she had gotten mad,
Pop had then realized,
What he had done was bad.

While Waiting For The Train #4


Sitting here, thinking about work
and the inherent contradictions
of housekeeping.
Or, should I say:
Sanitary Engineer,
Building Maintenance.
In reality, all it is
is an old fashioned janitor.
Or, as some of my friends say:
“Old **** janitor!”
Affectionately,
but also with an edge.

oo0oo

But this isn’t what I am thinking about.
No, it’s more the routine
and its mindless activity.
As we often say:
“It’s the same old, same old”;
or, “SSDD”;
same ****, different day.”
Today for example,
it was a Thursday Monday.
It’s always a Monday of some kind.
And Monday kind of describes the job too.

oo0oo

This too, is not what I am thinking.
It’s more the executive decisions
a janitor must make.
Decisions that determine
the ‘smooth’ functioning of a factory,
office, or where ever.
You laugh!
But really, it’s true.
Ever go to the bathroom
and there is no toilet paper?
See, I exaggerate not.
Or what if there were no
forks, knives, or spoons
in the lunch room.
Then what?
Are you really going to eat that
crispy green salad
with mushrooms and feta cheese,
smothered in ranch
with your fingers? Please!

oo0oo

But, even these earth shaking decisions
are not what I am thinking.
It’s those ever present,
critical questions:
sweep, mop, then pull trash?
Or should I pull trash, sweep
and then mop?
This monotonous rotation
determines the rotation
of the earth around the sun;
the phases of the moon
and when will I clean the bathrooms,
causing the most inconvenience
to everyone.
This by the way, is most satisfying
and one of the few perks of the job.
Sweep,
mop,
pull trash;
sweep, mop, pull trash.
Or, pull trash,
sweep,
mop!
It can give you grey hairs,
all this responsibility
and decision making.

oo0oo

Sitting here, now on the train home,
a brilliant,
not to mention uplifting,
idea rampages through my tired mind.
Tomorrow
I am going to be rebellious-
an open radical!
A free thinker!
Tomorrow, I have decided
will be “Liberation Day”.
“Janitors of the world unite!”
Tomorrow there will be a revolution,
as I,
the **** Old Janitor will:
mop,
pull trash,
then sweep!!!

(written as~~redzone 5.14.09 - Aztec Warrior)

© 2014 redzone