Richard Hoffman: Summer Job
“The trouble with intellectuals,” Manny, my boss,
once told me, “is that they don’t know nothing
till they can explain it to themselves. A guy like that,”
he said, “he gets to middle-age — and by the way,
he gets there late; he’s trying to be a boy until
he’s forty, forty-five, and then you give him five
more years until that craziness peters out, and now
he’s almost fifty — a guy like that at last explains
to himself that life is made of time, that time
is what it’s all about. Aha! he says. And then
he either blows his brains out, gets religion,
or settles down to some major-league depression.
Make yourself useful. Hand me that three-eighths
torque wrench — no, you moron, the other one.”
Copyright 2007 Richard Hoffman. From Gold Star Road (Barrow Street Press 2007)
Richard Hoffman‘s many books include a memoir Love & Fury (Beacon 2014) and a collection of poems Noon until Night (Barrow Street 2017).
Vox Populi 
Ha! Love this poem! The voice, the listener, the perfect twist at the end.
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Thanks, Roberta! I love this poem too.
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Wow, great poem. I love the way it moves and surprises, all in subtle ordinary language.
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Thanks, Deborah! I love Richard’s work as well.
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