Shifts and Clocks
In the land of shifts and endless clocks,
Where doubles stretch and time unlocks,
Don’t you know you were in trouble after your double?!
Alas, you surpass the homeless person, but only to find out you’re a slave to the dollar!
You holler, “Give me rest, let me undress!”
Yet still they press, “Just do your best” “While pennies fall, you earn the stress.”
They tell Bob to get a job!
Bob! Go to college and get more knowledge.
He decrees with his degree a spark as he farts his liberal studies degree.
A cap, a gown, a mountain owed,
The promised road’s a heavy load.
Now flipping fries, his dreams collide,
With grease-stained hopes and ketchup pride.
The boss proclaims, “You’re unqualified!
Go flip some burgers, keep ‘em fried.”
So Bob, with books and lofty tone,
Now takes orders through a greasy phone.
So in the land of shifts and endless clocks,
Where doubles drain and pennies mock,
The tale of Bob is crisp, not grand,
A liberal arts fry-cook, spatula in hand.