Dress CodeA Poem by Chris G. VaillancourtThey told me there's a dress code for the honour of working here. They told me that my heart and soul now belong to the big company. "Because you get a pay-cheque we control every aspect of your dreaming" is the message they chanted at me. Come now! Have they lost their collective minds? I stand a man, fully grown. This I can tell from the hair on my balls. I'll do my best to try to understand your odd ideas. Seemingly you believe that in working for you I've chopped out my mind. Tell me how to talk and how to dress, how to wear my underwear. The very nerve of such a thought boggles my brain! I'm surprised that your corporate rock does not understand, that dreams are mine and so is my body. I control my thought. I decide my name. No bulging logo on a company sign makes me fall down and pray. © 2011 Chris G. VaillancourtReviews
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Added on June 14, 2011Last Updated on June 14, 2011 AuthorChris G. VaillancourtWindsor, Ontario, CanadaAboutOver 200 of my poems have appeared in more than one hundred journals in the U.S. and Canada, in Japan and Australia, and the U.K. I have had a series of chapbooks published in the 1980's by 4 Wi.. more..WritingRelated WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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