appeal to a worker for the public good

with apologies to Dylan Thomas

Do not fit neatly into that noble plight,
Civil servants should burn and rave in their cubicled way;
Rage, rage against the mindless service of what’s right.

Though wise plebeians often call upon their foresight,
Because their words are drained till dull and grey
They do not fit neatly into that noble plight.

Good minds, they dream and cry, lamenting the height
They might have attained in another way,
Rage, rage against the mindless service of what’s right.

Great leaps of thought, limned ’round with logic bright,
Might fail to make it in by end of day,
Do not fit neatly into that noble plight.

Clear minds, near lost, that can’t see true words from trite,
That’d otherwise command all there is to say,
Rage, rage against the mindless service of what’s right.

And you, pale servant, with th’aspect of a long-dead wight,
Curse, bless me now with your key messages, I pray.
Do not fit neatly into that noble plight.
Rage, rage against the mindless service of what’s right.