The Agency Poem by Rev. Dr. A. Jacob Hassler

it was another long day at The Agency
amidst the clatter
of typewriters & staplers
& telephone chatter
and telephone rings

it was another papercut cyclone
of meetings & lunches
& memos & cold coffee
& three-hole punches
amongst other things

he put in long hours for his boss's demands
worked like he'd grown 12 extra hands

his brow was wet beneath his hat
his tie felt tight around his neck
his fingers felt like swollen bullets
rolling beneath a commuter train wreck

his useless mouth, his trembling lips
his heavy bullet fingertips...

yes, it was another long day at The Agency
(long month, long year...)

another long day at The Agency,
The Agency for life!

and for all his hard work at The Agency,
he goes home to beat his wife