In just three lines, the speaker heads off to work and describes what happens when they arrive. The key image is blunt and a little shocking: instead of getting something done, they "hatch a turd of affliction." The word "hatch" usually belongs to eggs, plans and schemes, things that promise something new. Here it produces waste, and a burdensome kind of waste at that.
The speaker seems to feel that office work is unproductive, even a kind of suffering. The joke is crude, but it carries real frustration. The poem suggests the job yields nothing of value, only a heavy, unpleasant product, and perhaps a sense of being afflicted by the routine itself.
The mood is dry, sour and darkly funny. The brisk opening, "up and to the office," sounds like a weary shrug, a morning march made without enthusiasm. Its brevity adds to the effect: the poem delivers its grim punchline and stops, much like the pointless day it describes.