A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature: over 400,000 monthly users
It’s a mediocre day to be fired
snow, mostly flurries, it’s been four years
since the last unemployment
life is different, more complicated
it feels as if you’re gonna suffocate
this is how I identified myself for four years
it was mostly loved, mostly like breathing
she asked through phone wires
what I was going to do next, she might have meant the big next
all I could think of was leaving, driving, motion on motion
three hours later I’m in Erie, and I have no idea why
I pass a sign the wind had its way with
now it says We Sell Blow. I stand shorelines
cigarette smoke mingling with flakes, wind
I feel defeated
as if it wasn’t obvious before
this fucking game is rigged
give your soul, you will be asked for more
eat shit, you will be asked to eat more
repeat until you’re too old to care, then please die
speed home, I’ve got nothing
I won’t want to talk when she gets home
I’d rather forget than rehash fresh wounds
once I hit the door, I can see
answering machine lights, winks of condolences
hey brother this is Rob. I just wanted to let
you know that when they told me they fired you
I decided that I’d had enough of this bullshit!
I handed in my keys and said fuck them
walked out. I’m at the Squirrel Cage
come have a drink with me!
Hey this is James. and when I walked in and they told
me what happened, I thought about what a pile of shit
this is, so I fucking quit right there. I’m at The Cage.
I just bought Rob a drink, you’re next if you join us
Hey it’s Gary. I stuck around for a bit, but they sent me to the bank
and I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I almost made the bank, but saw Rob
and James in The Cage laughing, and the politics of the whole thing
pissed me off. I went back without doing their banking. I called her a bitch
and stormed out. I’m at The Cage with Rob and James. Heather followed me out too.
You should come drink with us
One more message
Rob, plastered, unintelligible
I can barely make out his voice within bar
confines, jukebox yelling, he says he’s sorry
to have missed me, they’re heading home
he thanks me for being the best boss
fuck what some corporate shill says
Jason Baldinger is a poet who lives and works in Pittsburgh.
Copyright 2019 Jason Baldinger. An earlier version of this poem appeared in The Studs Terkel Blues published by NightBallet Press.
Reblogged this on Site Title and commented:
Catches the spirit of the times….
Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account.
( Log Out /
You are commenting using your Twitter account.
( Log Out /
You are commenting using your Facebook account.
( Log Out /
Connecting to %s
Notify me of new comments via email.
Notify me of new posts via email.
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Enter your email address to subscribe to Vox Populi for free.
Enter email address.
Enter your email address to follow Vox Populi and receive new posts by email.
Blog at WordPress.com.