Skyscrapers, my photo

Sometimes I question my
Humanity,
And not because I think I’m
Better
But more that I’m a
Stranger
Here, and I want to contribute to the
World, but I just don’t know
why

It started like most conversations at work
With a person
That wasn’t there anymore, and
two other people
Telling stories about all of the ways that this lady
Fucked up, or mostly in this case
Was lazy and kind of grumpy, and I was only
Halfway listening from under my headphones, I
Wasn’t really feeling the whole thing that day, the office
And the cubicles and the small talk and
The rituals of staged
commiseration
over this grinding
Exchange of time for money, I was just
Trying to ride it out under a blank
Expression, but
I know they were talking about a woman, a former
Administrative Assistant, or probably when she was there