Eve is madly in love with Hugh
 And Hugh is keen on Jim.
 Charles is in love with very few
 And few are in love with him.

 Myra sits typing notes of love
 With romantic pianist's fingers.
 Dick turns his eyes to the heavens above
 Where Fran's divine perfume lingers.

 Nicky is rolling eyes and tits
 And flaunting her wiggly walk
 Everybody is thrilled to bits
 By Clive's suggestive talk.

 Sex suppressed will go berserk,
 But it keeps us all alive.
 It's a wonderful change from wives and work.
 And it ends at half past five.

As part of his theme “Poems at Work”

I love Ewart, he’s always fun and cool. And offices are sort of cruisy places, especially given the amount of time we spend in them these days, and the modern management emphasis on how we all have to be close and one big family. So we all spend this much time together, and it’s hardly surprising then that our thoughts turn towards incest… with the predictably disastrous consequences.

It’s also why, I think, that all offices I’ve been in are obsessed with food. Everyone is always eating, offering food around, going out for lunches, comparing lunchboxes. Since you can’t have the one kind of sensory gratification, you overdo the other.

— Vikram