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My Work - PoetryCaricatureHe reclines back on his soft chairAnd is filled with the feeling That he is a boss Nay he is THE BOSS! Whilst his favourite occupation, Nay his first and last occupation Is to rack his brain, To discover how to manage all affairs So that plenty of money Could flow into his hungry pockets And his secret accounts could smile with pleasure. And how he could become Over a short period of time A major investor And an influential person, By hook or crock And trickery, hypocrisy and guile, And changing his colours as need be And stabbing backs And stepping on people without means, As if they were beetles, For he leaves the question of lawfulness To the pious and the simple And he could not care less What becomes of anyone other than himself * * * * * He reclines back - as if on a throne - haughtily He never gets bored with the word "I" and with his narcissism He speaks on every topic as though he were an expert On everything, large or small! And everyone knows that he is a competent actor And everyone knows deep in his heart That he is despicable. Dubai, 1980 |
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