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Getting Naked at Work and Reciting Shakespeare

Newamba

Sitting in desolate isolation entrapped by a cubicle
My boredom melancholy counted by ticking clocks
Water coolers burping passing time like hour glasses
Co-workers gossiping about the celebrity couple that punched a nun in the face
And adopted a one legged orphan from Sri Lanka with rabies named Pujuma

I can no longer bear the monotony
So I jump onto a table in the middle of the room
And begin to scream out a Shakespearean sonnet
Tearing off my work clothes with each stanza
Instead of an English accent,
I recite it with the voice of Tony Danza

Now totally nude and completed all verse,
I tie my necktie around my head
And strap on running shoes with no socks
No socks, not now, not today

I yell outÉ
“I am Ezra Pound, and this is my lost Canto!”

Jumping down from the table, colleagues point and yell
Some laugh, some gasp
A lady faints, a man spits out coffee and drops things
My frightened turtle shrivels in the cool air-con
But I care not
For today I am free

I run into my bosses office
Turning around and bending over,
I sing “Don’t worry, Be Happy” in B Flat and slap on my buttcheeks for rhythm
Not even exiting his conference call, I don’t think he notices the intrusion
I wave “ta-ta” and run down the hall to the elevator
A woman had been standing there but took off running when she saw me

Once in the elevator, I hum to musak that sounds like “Kokomo”
“Aruba, Bahama” “Key Largo, Montego”
I love that song and it sounds much better when you’re naked and in an elevator
Getting out, I dodge a security guard trying to capture me
“To be or not to be!” I yell and run out into the street

As I run down the street, I sing Christmas Carols and put quarters into vacant parking meters
(I keep a roll of quarters inserted in my rectum at all times just in case a situation like this develops)
Stopping and saluting a leashed dog,
I revoltingly recant Walt Whitman and have sex with a street sign

Now smoking a cigarette I picked up off the street,
I begin running and singing again, even more out of key
People scream and point and cover their children’s eyes
It’s amazing the reactions that a naked man running down the street smoking,
bellowing out “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” elicits

I point to the sky and proclaim wildly:
“Today, and only today, I am the antique’s teeth from ‘The Waste Land’ without the cockney accent, and they are me!”

I run into a tumultuous shopping mall
Crawling with suburban zombies and credit crunchiness
Climbing up the escalator, I begin to give the Gettysburg Address
Suddenly I’m shot in the back of the head by a deranged Burger King employee on a homicidal rampage
I die instantly

I’m still naked



Scars Publications


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