Much of life is boring

and being boring, while talking about it, is even worse

It’s not important to have money or power

to attract women

but you must have the masculine essence

Women want Men, and the stuff of men—

they don’t want anything else. They don’t want to be bored.

Like the Eskimos who have 200 different names for snow

I have 200 ways to talk about coffee

It’s a legal drug—and I need to be high to get through the work-day

Some people call me “interesting”

and some people protest, “You’re Boring!”

I am boring—I admit it.

I get sadistic pleasure from talking to my boss about procedure, because of my hate for her love of the job.

I want her to know

this is her life.

All of her humor—I disdain—like special education being a monopoly board game.

I play the board game—it’s the boring game.

I am so boring—she is afraid to call me on the telephone. She prefers email.

And it has taken quite some time, to write exciting events, like drudgery.

I’m killing her spirit, slowly.

It’s guerilla warfare—she’ll retire because she can’t read another email

and then I’ll advance, like a slug

and those who love their jobs

will know the wrath of my dialogue

the silver slime, on their paperwork.