You get the joke of your existence,
when your funny bone loses resistance,
to the interlocutor plugged into your socket,
and your head free from the docket.
The blasphemy that occurs at the office
makes me afraid to drink the brew in my chalice.
Its' hard to remember,
when you're thrown into a blender,
what's just some hand-eye coordination device,
that puts you on ice,
and what works cross platform,
like lavender's perfume.
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