Drop It (poem)

“Thank you for dropping by
My office. Why?
Well, to give you the backdrop…
Someone here is for the chop.”

You could hear a pin drop)

“Droopy-drawers has dropped the ball
So now he’s heading for a fall.
Drop dead gorgeous, he may be,
And he’s dropped a size, agreed,
But he keeps on dropping off!
He thinks his nose is in the trough,
College dropout, climbing high,

(The penny drops. I don’t reply)

“Sucking pear drops, all day long,
Dropping hints about Hong Kong,
Shady past, dead drops for spies,

– “Are those teardrops in your eyes? –

“Dropped aitches to try and fit in,
Silly hair, strange drooping grin.
I’ve had the drop on him since day one.
I wish that I’d dropkicked his bum,
But the boss said to drop out of sight,
Drop off the radar, act alright,
Until… goody goody gumdrop”

(If I drop dead now, would this all stop?)

“He’s only gone and messed up proper
At last! I get to drop the dropper.
I’ve been working till I’m fit to drop.
Now I get to melt this snow-drop.
Drop him like he’s hot, or he’s cold,
Dropped like a habit, from days of old,
The bottom’s dropped out of his market,

‘Come, have a seat, go on, park it,
I need to drop a bombshell’, I’ll say.
‘You’ve dropped by the wayside, faded away,
Time to drop everything and leave.
Feeling confused? Time to believe!'”

(My jaw drops. He’s clearly quite mad)

“Chin up now. No need to feel sad.
Drop me a line if you do need to chat:
I’ll be there at the drop of a hat,
So no need to look quite so abject.

“We’re done: please drop the subject.”


Milk (poem)

Every office has them,
Lurking in plain sight.
Do NOT touch their milk,
Unless looking for a fight.
With the level marked
And named with felt-tip pen,
The milk mafia dictate
What you drink, and when.
Don’t think you’ll get away
With taking a drop for your tea:
They do NOT take the view “live and let live,
Whatever will be, will be.”
These semi-skimmed soldiers
Deploy all sorts of tricks.
Exhibit A”…
“breast milk”…
To prevent you getting your fix.
Should they ever catch you,
You’re surely for the chop.
A withering stare; a scowl:
“Whatever you’re doing, just stop!”
There is only one thing worse
Than those who behave in this way.
My ire’s reserved for the light-fingered lout
Who’s stolen MY milk today!