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It is not in the thinking of new things to do
It is in the counting of things that you have already done
And it is not in the things that you staple together
It is in your desire to staple
And it is not in the speaking on the telephone
It is in how loud you are speaking
And it is not in the cable TV
It is in the cables themselves
Through which they send the crap into our homes
And it is not in the smiling
It is in the teeth beneath the smile
And also the tongue
And it is not in the baying for blood
It is in the actual baying
The quality of the baying
And it is not in the plastic bottle
It is in the colour of the lid of the plastic bottle
And it is not in her actions or words
It is in how much her actions or words annoy you
And it is not in the threshing machine
It is in how much your workers are afraid of the threshing machine
And it is not in the chocolate factory
It is in the very fact that there is a chocolate factory
And it is not in the chair
It is in the list that does exist somewhere
Of all the people who have sat in the chair
And it is not in pineapple chunks
It is in pineapple rings
And it is not in rocket fuel
It is in the drinking of rocket fuel
And it is not in jokes
It is in the need for jokes
And it is not in time, exactly
It is in the sand in the hourglass
And it is not in books
It is in the sober atmosphere of the library
And it is not in banging on the big bass drum
It is in the inaudible swishing of the conductor's baton
And it is not in the devil you know
It is in the devil you don't know
And it is not in the pie filling
It is in the pastry
And it is not in the rubbish
It is in where you put the rubbish
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