Thursday, March 17, 2016


Monitors Like Flowers

Horch certainly ran an information cubicle.

Monitored to the max, all the figures spilling
in every direction.

It had once been window dressing, of course,
for the famous O'Leary.

Who never worked, and retired normally.

Horch worked continuously, and now
added a white monitor.

We called his cubicle, then, The Hospital.

So he monitored, too, all the numbers
and graphs etc of his physical and
mental being.

We could hear him muttering when his
metabolism flew a bit.

"Better breathe, sit down a moment!"

We were all sitting down for restorative
moments at that time, for we had lost the
super important Switzky Account.

Well, anyway, to look at Horch outside
the cubicle...normal-looking guy.
Even a bit of fun to him.

Until the day his face turned bright
powder blue.

Was it a side effect of new prostate pills?

“You want the simple explanation, or the
simpler one?” asked Daldad.

Opted for the latter.

“Watch National Geographic on monkeys or chimps
or whatever. That the face of one, anyway. Don't
you see?” he almost pleaded. "His girlfriend made
a monkey outa him!"

Well, she had left. All his med readings were off.

Daldad phoned her on the sly to see if she could help.

At first she said "I woudn't give him the sweat off my...!"
But Daldad is persuasive, and she sent Horch a dried
fruit wheel from Harry and David, with the note. "I must
be free. I know you understand. You are so beautifully

His face toned down gradually and is now just tinged
the lightest powder blue.

Bottom line: the company specializes in agitation,
so the new CEO ordered all medical monitoring
to cease. "Making staff a bunch of hypochodriacs!"

We had a litmus paper client, so she didn't
object to those tests.

Horch has gone mad in touching various parts
of himself periodically.

I give credit to us all, though, in that RP is
scrupulously observed.

Rectal Privacy.

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