Work Horses

Sparrows cant, chirrup along the rooftops,
the morning moans, jolted back from night,
forcibly the world's machine moves,
cogs climb into cars, engines groan into action,
as regimented life kickstarts itself,
wheels ignited, pistons firing, all in unison.

In the commotion, tempers flare, housed in unstable
fortresses, where cars career toward their goals
hap-hazardly, as humans hurtle to work,
aiming to avoid lateness, the angry manager,
the morose head of department, afeared
of losing their treasured occupations and incomes.

And happily installed in their batteries finally,
coffee is consumed rapidly to cement wakefulness,
though the irony is that the brown hot liquid
irritates the nerves and causes more tension,
office terrorism and email wars, hatred
for life itself, for the souce of this creation.