I can take them, in small doses, like pills
a little poison, to strengthen my soul
but dealing with their bottled-up egos
their swallowed-up misery
is a suicide
waiting to happen.
There are some people,
I need to get away from
it’s not so bad, if you meet with them
for 30 minutes
because you feel
when they walk away—
like having diarrhea, or pulling out a splinter.
There is no amount of money
you can give me
to work with these people.
My supervisor was so unpleasant
that I ate my lunch in my car
rather than a paid-for air-conditioned meal
while listening to her talk.
It’s an offense
to these people, that I don’t want to hang around them
while they show off.
These people have spiritual problems
not that I can diagnose,
but whenever I feel like saying
“Go to the devil!”
they’re already there.