Come To Work Poem by John a'Beckett

Leisure-lovers, looking for
Exotic reasons to explore
The mystery of recent past

Strap on your watches, strive
To look a little nine-to-five
And be Industrial at last

Don’t look as if you’d shirk
Our next activity: To Work-
A game I’m sure you’ll grasp

Get into working rhythm, find
Dancing to The Daily Grind
The ultimate in hip-hop blast

Toss off your miniscule computers
Mingle with these old commuters
Join them in their ancient task

Find bliss – a new emphatic thrill
Behind this old pneumatic drill
And give it your ghetto blast

The natives of this odd time-spot
Are leisure-seeker-friendly, not
All against lane-living Fast

They..their stress in Union
Strikes – a kind blest communion
Under Holy Mentor, Marx.

If it’s your quirk then please frolic
In sun of work, be workaholic
Drink from it labour flask

Well, work-fantasists, a pleasure
It has been to guide your leisure
I must sleep now - kavlast!