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Memo to corporate pigs


At the heart
Of the 2nd best
Political writings
Intended for an inaugural prize
There are some subscriber

For instance, the time
Of pestilence is heaven
& earth
That would sell the dirt
& write
Stuff for pick
Of the day
Looking back to
The absences behind
The printed words
That become daily
Recital, kronos, spirit
& end of o
–Ouyang Yu

Memo to the heads of debauchment
(An Australian office tragedy in three acts)

Misery does not love company. Still,
troglodytes unite in micro-managing
and glory-hogging their way up
the corporate pecker,
regardless of the bedrizzled
lackeys who ghostwrite
(ghostthink) gorgon's
auto-erotic raptures.
Glorification of self is the only get off,
self-promotion the only pick up.
Homo sapiens resembles
Cro-Magnon (make that fillet mignon).
Eat or be eaten, consume or be consumed
in the orgasmic race to the biggest corporate profile
for the most miniscule contribution.

Know not what you can do
for your franchise?
Ask what your franchise can do
to the luckless bustards
labouring under your corpulent wing.
No good deed goes unplagiarised;
no noteworthy scheme leaves
the department unharvested.
Lack the intellectual capital to spend
on an informed decision?
Set multiple minions to work
then cherry pick the outcomes,
signing off with your own trotter.
Honour no man, woman or deity.
Recreate life in your own porcine image.

Days fall into nights, all unheeded.
A workaholic's wet dream
is unmerited praise, for
the sweat of others and
dreams of institutional lessers.
Best practice is your Widdershins yardstick;
choose the direct opposite
of ethical counsel to
consolidate power and
congregate perversities of soul.
The whole is bereft of
the doughnut of choice.
When your life is your job,
the bureaucrat's lot,
you live to bleed others.
–Barry Gittins 

Ouyang YuOuyang Yu is an Australian poet, novelist, essayist, literary translator an essayist. His second novel, The English Class (Transit Lounge), was published in August. His third English novel, Loose: a Wild History, is forthcoming with Wakefield Press in 2011.
His latest book of poetry, titled White and Yu, was released in April by PressPress.

Barry GittinsBarry Gittins is a Melbourne writer. 

Topic tags: new australian poems, ouyang yu, behind, barry gittins, Memo to the heads of debauchment, office tragedy



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Existing comments

I wish creative people such as this writer - who has written an otherwise interesting piece - would stop branding someone an animal to insult them. Pigs are not corporate. Pigs don't do any of the hideously oppressive actions that corporates do. By all means insult 'corporates' but they are not animals - they are PEOPLE.

Katrina Fox | 05 October 2010  

George Harrison wrote a song called ‘Piggies’. It’s on the White Album. We all get the point. It’s about disgusting overeating. At the end of Animal Farm, George Orwell has the revolutionary pigs finish up being the mirror image of the selfish, tyrannical creatures they overthrew. We all know what is meant when we say politicians have their snouts in the trough. I mean, pigs are selective, clean, orderly creatures, but artists have reasons why they liken slovenly, greedy and gluttonous people to pigs. Barry Gittins writes here in a satirical and uncompromising mode. Personally, I think it’s a rip snorter.

Victoria Beaumont | 06 October 2010  

I very much enjoyed your poem Barry - evocative and incisive. Thank you.

MBG | 10 October 2010  

I liked Ouyang Yu and Barry Gittens poetry. Why can I not ciopy them to hard print?

alan lucas | 10 October 2010  

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