Hell [August Poetry Submission]

This is hell. 

Hell is not some place ruled by a red goat man in a gilded throne, the screams of the damned echoing forever.

Hell is a corporate office, lined with silver trimmed walls and thin grey carpets.

It is the buzz of low impact fluorescent lights in the quiet hours, interrupted by the clack of keys and the occasional squeak of a chair.

It is the constant back and forth of middle managers and constant reports and the talks who should be the grinch of the office Christmas party.

It is the stares from those too wide, lacquer-toothed smiles, salespeople who decide that you should be in that role. 

It is the taste of stale coffee and vending machine donuts.

Hell is the spray-on-bronze skinned CEO who decided that actually you should finish those employee evaluation forms for the new hires, he’s going to a resort to secure some nebulous business deals with nonexistent clients.

Hell is the sudden and often quiet realization that you spent half your life sucking up to someone who doesn’t even know your name.

It is the endless team meetings to “bolster morale” as half a division of your coworkers is laid off by an AI program.

Hell is then being forced to fix all the mistakes the AI makes.

Hell is writing the press release for the AI posting trade secrets on public message boards.

Hell is hiding under your desk to avoid catching the fury of a middle manager who thinks that hourly pay is for lazy employees, and that everything must be task focused. 

Hell is the clock on the wall stopping at 4:59. 

Hell is being asked to stay overtime to fix the latest software crash caused by the AI.

Hell is missing your dinner date with your partner, that you specifically requested time off for because Debby decided to take a vacation without letting the rest of the team know.

I am in Hell.