Going Feral

I choose to eat outside because it's cataclysmic in there. In the cafeteria where they perch on plastic -chairs chirping away in flock hysteria. Frantically peck-pecking away the crumbs tossed to them from the higher ups. All of them are slowly going deaf -n- dumb. Soon they'll flitter off (gullets filled with themselves) to play solitaire on filthy keys I choose to work outside their hellish squares. trying to stay off my knees whenever possible. I choose to eat outside the burning carousel. I fear... I might be going feral.