THE CRAP WEDDING

There really is nothing quite so life affirming

As being sat at a table

With eight complete strangers

At a wedding reception

With barely enough alcohol to drown a flea.

That is, if your life is a pained, awkward, silent,

Elongated existential crisis with unfamiliar faces

And nowhere to escape to.

By way of an ice breaker,

The man next to me asks if I like logic puzzles.

I laugh and say no,

To which he replies,

“You have to ask a meta question,”

Which has to be the worst and weirdest opening ever.

I should have asked him

If he was enjoying his pate

At the quantum level.

WHEN STATIONERY IS NOT STATIONARY

This one is for Tom (and Becky, if that was her name...)

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?

I have one day off

And come back to find

That someone has tidied my desk?!?!

“I didn’t want to throw any of it away,”

Admitted the culprit, the one-day desk squatter

“So I put it all in piles.”

Yeah, except for the folder,

Which is now on the wrong side of the desk,

The stapler being in the drawer,

With the pens and the post it notes

Where none of these things EVER LIVE,

And the ruler,

Which has magically migrated to your own desk.

Look at it, this is chaos;

You people are the worst kind of terrorist

Why don’t you come ‘round my house while I’m out next week

And glue all my furniture

To the ceiling?