"...specks of insignificance toiling away unable to tell one day from the next till that fateful hour we all must punch out" is a tremendous ending for this piece, Chris. Nice write.

Ah yes, a prairie dog field. When something happens heads pop up from all over the place. Good poem Chris I too liked the last lines....Charlie

what a fresh perspective...your question is asked from an angle most never considered.

Tedium indeed... that begs a bigger question. I like the subtlety of how you introduced the "bigger question."

...which is why I sometimes write poetry from my cubey, Chris! On my coffee break, of course.... d;-)

You catch the tedium of the workday world exceptionally well in this poem. The challenge is to keep one's daily work in proper perspective to what one views as his real raison d'etre.

So Sartrelike. I kept thinking of existential angst, the potential deadening effect of ritual in general, and ... how much the rest of us depend on those specks doing their work so we get our next check or service. In a speck... eternity?