Fake Believe

I walk these majestic corridors of the huge tower block

Skyscraper clawing down the sky into the earth

Thirty two floors above ground

And ten below where anything goes

Tell me, what’s down there?

Ornate toilets fit for a king

That I use three times a night

When I have a right big shit

And wash my armpits, tonsils and nipples on the bidet

Enjoying being tickled by the water

Then dry them on the air jet blower

Followed by a job off the toilet attendant

Male or female it doesn’t matter

Just close your eyes and tap twice

She/he/ladyboy will soon be there

Part of the joy of working in the city

Call centre vampires enjoying their work

We only come out at night

When I prowl the corridors of my structure

I’m the CEO of my own company

And own this building and all of you

In my murky make believe world

Of office tower block fake worldery