We Are The Slackers

We are the slackers.
The immature entrepreneurs;
we are the will-not-stay-laters,
the go-home-on-timers,
the overtime haters.

We are the jackers.
The stick-your-jobbers;
I'll make my own,
wear my own clobber,
work from me bed
and forget all the bother.

We are the worthy.
The set-our-own-pricers;
the get-haggled-downers,
the get-paid-laters,
the where-did-my-money-goers;
the late-cheque paycheck blowers.

We are the cash and the flow.
The sausage and the sizzle.
The legwork and the admin.
The boss and employee.
The name on the door.
The place where the buck stops.

We are the slackers,
given half a chance
to pause for breath amid the dance
of work and invoice,
pitch for jobs of perfect size
to fill the day but not the night,
keep the deadlines not-too-tight
but do the job and time it right;
not so much motivation, more of a fight
to stay on course, to stay on track,
to do the work and send it back
at the right time, on the right day;
and then sit back and hope and pray
our invoice does not go astray;
that this client, at least, will choose to pay.

We are the jumpers who ask 'how high?'
then leap for you into the sky
while you throw pennies at our feet,
each shiny coin a tiny treat.

We are neither organ grinder, nor monkey;
yet when clients call the tune
we rush to be their dancers;
we are the Freelancers.