Dance Yerself Busy*

Yes, Sir, I can boogie*
But there’s just no call for that
And I’m really not the kind
To pull rabbits out of hats…*
My sense of awe and wonder
Has upped and wandered off
Leaving me alone
To contemplate my Stuff.
My skills and capabilities,
They’re not doing much for me
Except perhaps reminding
None of this is my deciding;
A judgement passed without recourse
To argument or redress, of course.
The sense that I must suck it up
Because they royally f****d it up
Is little compensation
For this tedious situation.
But maybe, just maybe
I can find a thread of hope
To weave myself a length
Of morale-saving rope…
My head feels like a dynamo
Spinning at speed and nowhere to go,
The application process
Adding weight to my distress.
Paragraphs of trumpet-blowing
The only way I have of showing
Worth and capability
(Albeit somewhat farcically-
Wondering whether rhyming slang
Would add a more creative twang…)
I have no will for fighting
In person or in writing
And though a Rhyming Attack
Won’t get me my job back
Perhaps there’s something to be said
For this space in my head
Constructing spurious reason
To get me out of bed…
Reputation, Reputation
Holds the Future of Nations,
So easily overshadowed
By mistrusting operations.
There has to be a better way
To pass these dull un-working days
So it’s form-filling tedium
From here to kingdom come.
Though this walking in the darkness
Is no way to find the light
I’m not quite prepared
To surrender the fight.
I’ll be dancing in the kitchen,
Me and MJ* quite a team-
Though hardly, if I’m honest,
Karaoke’s finest dream…



*in order of appearance-(no sophisticated form of referencing available here, sadly)

And finally, the incomparable Michael Jackson- a lifelong musical influence and, coincidentally, my birthday twin…


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