Lib

I demand

the right
to wear a suit that does not keep me warm
and a tie that does nothing but hang

a job
where I can draw buzzwords on flipcharts with fat pens
and stay late to impress people I do not like

a career
where I am never happy
where I miss the below and envy the above

a private life
stitched from working lunches and a drunken mistake
and watching films on planes with leg ache

heaven forbid
I should stay shackled to the kitchen sink
surrounded by food and children and the smell
of carpets