More 'poetry'. We've been doing haikus in the office all afternoon:

Grey rainclouds spew their
Spit on Swish Cottage windows
Deadlines come and go

David is so bored
Though he has a lot to do
Magazine can wait

Haikus are rubbish
Well, all mine are anyway
I give up, alright?

Clarissa's haikus
Are nearly as painful as
Robert's hangover

good job they are much
less precarious than Dave's
future job prospects

Where were you, David
when we needed you to say
how the lines should work?

Was in a meeting
Productive use of my time
With the bossy twat

I once had a mate,
who was productive with a
bossy twat. Nuff said.

We can't come with you
To your Christmas lunch this year
We have our own. Shit.

cold processed turkey
bossy twat chats and makes jokes
lunch will be so fun

Boogies on the floor
Getting jiggy with the staff
I'm gonna be ill

maybe we'll limbo
pash the boss in the cupboard
photocopied ass

fuck you, mean haiku
your rules lock like a dark cage
trapping crocks of shit