Last job I got Ipromised myselfwhen the money began to stagger drunkenly through the door just like a man I’d be sure to getthat new pressure washerI even checked out the specs and – no fault of mine – pre-selected the price range Year and a half laterI couldn’t help but noticethe screws from the teak lawn chair routinely hitting the floorwhenever I sat down — my one good chairHanging out online I scouteda second-hand egg chair and a new job I said I’d come collect the suspended eggI had already gotten the next job
Categories: Poetry