The Corporate Hunter

There's a man in a corner office, cold sunlight cutting him in two.

He wears a humble smile on Monday but the halls all know what

he will do. For his hunting ground ain't forests, ain't the highways or the plains.

He hunts beneath fluorescent lighting, down the aisles of corporate chains. A serial killer

watches closely, studying every breath you take. This man studies honest workers

just to see which ones will break. Not by chance but by design,

for he crafts the traps himself. Sends a man a job without the tools

then fires him for lack of help. And behold, the hunter comes