saw the sweep hand through each second
revolution
thinking that if I punished myself enough
I’d know not to catch this kind of job again
but I did
being young feckless and free
the burdens
I had felt as nothing then
there would always be a better day
at the end of the shift
weekend
counting stuff
sweeping floors
pushed
pulled things in cages
levers
all for the pay
at the end of the week
day
I was as the dust
swept from dark corners
faint shitstains on thrones
and they made sure
to let me know this;
you can go at the end of today
Friday
we got somebody with more shift
about them
and I’d escape into the sunshine
night
wondering where I’d go next
to start the cycle again
