The receptionist is an exhibitionist,
strutting herself along her desk,
with a picturesque peacock dress
as entry cards buzz and staff pour in.
Loopy lifts bounce from level to level,
the stairs are a backwards escalator.
A thousand cokes and coffees later,
there's breakdancing on the kitchen floor.
Laptops crash in spectacular fashion,
with a firework feast for the powers-that-be,
who wave their waistcoats in ecstasy,
as slideshows explode with fun-fuelled passion.
The funky fire alarm relentlessly bleeps
with rave-like beats that crave vertigo.
But no-one leaves and no-one sleeps;
why should they? It's snoozeday tomorrow.
Saturday, 27 July 2019
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