And all these fucking chucks
They're compounding
It's astounding
Everything running amok
Pooping with an audience?
Try being that audience
And passing out is not allowed
Trust me,
I've tried
Part of my job
Is to swab
From their nostrils
To their brains,
Rearranging what's inside
Somehow, they survived.
Somehow, so did I.
I love what I do
But contending with
The fucking chucks
The indecision,
The fricken linens
Nose swabs
Poop blobs...
Take me somewhere else!
