Friederic Worshem
The New Guidebook for Staff
When They've Become the Client
I. When the client sings, out of tune, your favorite song
Remember that he is in the shower and that the shower
Has a door for which you hold the key.
II. When the clients snides beneath the germs of his breath
That he is 'All Powerful,' gently remind the bastard of his
Court date after which the holy fool will trample back
To his twin bed, like a jester.
III. When the client, to your very face, spits out his tooth
Of wisdom after biting into a pool ball he misread
For an apple, quietly pick the tooth up and place
it like a pearl, beneath his pillow.
IV. When the client hurls the broken remote through the T.V.
Simply abide above his peers' many gasps and groans
'til the room becomes 'silence,' at which point you may
Offer the fool a seashell~along with its sound which
Nothing makes.
V. When the client shits in the hall and proceeds to grab you
By the collar 'to show' you his great masterpiece,
Calmly ask the bastard if (like you) he can already hear
The sirens.
VI. When the client digresses to the word salad of hyperbole,
The richer deserts of grandeur, remind and then reassure
The lunatic that you're putting to list his every decree,
His every proclamation which his pyschiatrist will be checking,
Twice.
VII. When the same client emerges from his room which, after
One year, has filled with coal & sticks, the smell of lice
And urine~remind the clown that 'there's plenty more
From where that came from.'
VIII. When the client announces 'I have been cured,'
Merely mention the Johnson & Johnson vaccine,
Its infinite entourage of shots.
IX. If the client announces he is 'the cure,'
Softly break the good news--in the voice
Of Kermit the Frog--that the world begs
To differ.
Y. If the same client recants of 'being the cure'
Then admits to 'being the virus'
Peer through its soul with 1-part care,
2-parts disgust before revealing that,
Unlike the church, confessions are not
Welcome here.
