Help Wanted

We’d all kill for a little light.
We crowd around the one office window,
quarrelling over who will lick it clean this time.
Someone on the second floor stashed
their vitamin D in OUR refrigerator.
Who else sees the skull in the sky
above the hotdog cart on east 14th Street?

What I need is the Complete Idiot’s guide
to the Eyes in the Back of My Head.
Do you think you can remember this for tomorrow?
The tension in the women‘s potty is as thick
as the cat-choking mist of hairspray.
You could cut it with a plastic fork
like all the old farewell cakes.

I lost the post-it telling me where I am.
As for the previous assistants, sometimes I visit
their graves, sometimes their graves visit me.
It’s hard to see the screen with all these ghosts;
when’s the exterminator coming?
It said bad file/corrupted, but I hadn’t even
touched it yet. I wouldn’t eat that,
if I were you.