I’m a social worker
In a sea of cubes
Usually mesmerized by the rain sound of thirty hands typing
But when there’s a rest
They’re on the phone
And I can’t help but listen in
And when I do
It’s like reading a bathroom book of sage advice
“Listen buddy, you can’t run from your problems”
“What do you think you need to do?”
“Do you think it was a good idea to hit him in the face?”

Sometimes, I can ignore it
But when I can’t, I’m answering each question in my head
“You’re right, it was probably a terrible decision”
“Yeah, I probably could have cleaned up my mess on my own”
“Getting married isa big step”

The joke is on them, however
Because whatever mahatma hat we wear at work
Is gone abruptly
Upon our arrival at home

Drunk in the tub
Yelling at the kids
Working out until we make ourselves sick

We have no business asking you if it was a good idea to punch him in the face
Maybe it was a great idea
What the fuck do we know