You Silent Bastards

You lure me in with job descriptions
Full of hope and fun,
You tempt with salary predictions
Nobody would shun.
You call me in for interviews,
That seem to go so well –
But when I wait to hear the news,
I’m left in limbo hell.

It’s crept upon us recently,
This lack of PFOs,
This lack of common decency
To notify the ‘Noes’.
You need an audit of your soul,
For your arrogance acquired –
To see your HR staff as a whole
Could do with being fired !

I know that I could do these jobs damn well
If given the chance,
So do I pass ? But you will never tell,
Not even a glance.
You won’t even admit I exist,
I’m scum to be ignored –
As long as your boxes get ticked off the list,
And your KPI targets scored.

My Last Colleague

Honestly, nothing about my job
Is beyond the wit of a silicon chip.
Just load the data, twist the knob,
And level-up the workmanship.
The sums will work, the grammar will sync,
All-night on unpaid-overtime –
While I’m making coffee to help me think,
The spreadsheets alter their paradigm.

Honestly, all that keeps me employed
Is the lack of investment by my firm –
This safe-and-boring world I’ve enjoyed
Will all be gone in the medium-term.
The world goes on, but I’ll be sacked
And paid to not-disrupt the flow.
But I won’t stage some Luddite act –
I’m gladly pack my mug and go.

Human Reseources

Colleagues are sort of these halfway-friends –
We’re thrown together, not self-selected.
In theory, we’re working to similar ends,
Or maybe we’re likewise disaffected,
But is that enough to ensure a bond ?
To safely whinge at the bosses together ?
Are workmates our mates ?  Or is that too fond,
If all we ever discuss is the weather ?

No, some of them, surely, are more than that,
Are more than just somebody else they’ve hired.  
The ones whose desk you find ourself at
More often that is strictly required.
Someone we might even meet on the outside,
Away from the phones and the morning train –
Until one of us moves-on or is downsized,
And we know we’ll never co-author again.

Colleagues are friends who we see in passing,
In the queue to pick-up a photocopy.
We snatch a few words, but no time for gassing –
Till next time we meet, while making coffee,
Or standing around with our cigarettes,
To talk about sport, and celebrities’ hair,
And the news of our cars and our kids and our pets –
Till one day we realise they’re no longer there.

No, some of them, surely, are more than acquaintances,
More than just people we spend our days seeing.
When our social circle is too large for maintenance,
Are these the ties that we won’t be freeing ?
So will we continue to meet them to talk with,
And not let them just be a face we forget ?
What happens to colleagues we no longer work with ?,
Our nine-to-five friends, once the long Sun has set.

Football Widows
 
Keep your head down,
Nod along,
To the chatter at work and down the pub.
See out the season –
Silent and strong
Whenever they ask you “what’s your club ?”
Just shrug and smile
And change the topic,
Even sheepishly confess
“It’s not my thing”,
And quietly drop it,
Shuffling back to the wilderness.
Don’t get smug
How partisan
Their view of the pitch is – they already know !
The offside outrage
Of the av’rage fan
Is part of the fun, and all for show.
So make no fuss,
Keep your comments mum,
And join the sweepstake for the whatever-cup.
The topic will change
And your chance will come –
Keep your eye on the ball, and don’t give up !

Job-Locked

It’s never been as easy as now
To apply for a brand new job –
A couple of clicks on the morning train
And your old boss’s loss is your new boss’s gain.
Except…you’re one of the millions now,
A lone CV in the mob –
And all those skills it took years to master,
The algorithm can reject ever faster.

We’re all sending pleas into the void,
Just begging for a happier lot
We’re bored and stressed in our current roles,
Our daily slog has poisoned our souls.
We grumble away with our hope destroyed,
As the years see our futures rot.
We know precisely what we want to do,
But the gods say ‘not for the likes of you’.

Careers Advice

I’ve worked too long in a job that’s wrong,
That’s never suited me –
I don’t enjoy my long employ,
But now I can’t break free !

To pay the bills, I’ve built up skills
That aren’t of use elsewhere –
But if I quit, my face won’t fit,
My peg is far too square.

I’d have to start to learn an art
From back on the fact’ry floor –
It could take years of rent arrears,
Till my payslips aren’t so poor.

So kids, choose wise which bunch of guys
You wish to call your own –
For once you’ve gone a decade on,
Your path is set in stone.