Temps And Perms Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

A temp's a gal who gets no ire
She's only there on two weeks' hire
Not like the perms who hold their jobs
Like cougars clenching meat in jaws
Or lions holding prey ‘neath paws
Or raptors clutching fish in claws

Some think there should be orders
For offices to halt disorders
By perms who violate all borders
Backstabbing, planting hid recorders

The good news for the new recruit
Is that she often is so cute
That though perms hope she will be ditched
Or vanish on a broom bewitched
She often ends up much enriched
Resigning and with boss get hitched.