PANT by Nerida Meyer-Gleaves

[Lily Fenley]

Behind the masquerade of officialdom
And the pretension of the clacking heeled office space
Tensions build and burn
Until beastly growls are ready to rip from delicate throats.

The columns of belted beauties
Parade in cascades of Prada and Manolo,
Clicking through tiled spaces
Wall to wall with whirring PC's,
Driving the demons of drink and drama
To roar through the halls,
A hurricane of hasty retreats and spiralling spreadsheets.

Nothing brings out the beast,
Like drowning in deadlines,
Trialling traineeships,
And solemn schedules.

Imagine the world where the gnashing teeth of frustration are leant real voice!
Where it is not uncouth to bare your teeth,
And snarl and snap when things avalanche into action.
It would be more forward, brutal, and honest.

The cutthroat image in my mind,
Of the voice that business needs me to be,
Is not a bitch.

It is a hound, large and clawed,
Collared in steel spikes and leather,
Ready for the next challenge to my authority.
To my decision making.
To my quality.
To my worth.

The office is a dogfight.
And I am a Doberman.

My stilettos click like clawed paws on the office floor.
My instructions ring like barks across the desks.
People scurry and scrape to follow my lead,
The hierarchy of the pack mentality taking control.

In the meantime, it's a dream.

While I take my puppy grumbles,
And whimpering whispers to bed every night,
I dream in wolves and wilds.

But puppy play is precious, and perfect.
I'll enjoy that.

[Admin]

NICK: Awesome! I know that world all too well! :-) Thanks Nindiy! xxx