My beautiful picture

My first job at eighteen years old is this,

Looking in the parking lot for loose carts

Freed from their row, not one am I to miss,

Nothing too grand which my title imparts,

“Front-end Loader” at the hardware chain store,

For four whole months until college begins.

Today my boss for me has a new chore,

Bathroom duty to cleanse shopper’s foul sins.

Wretched!  Oh so evil Satan’s soil,

Fetid Sheol is where I have been sent,

Why must I in such dregs have to toil

Without so much as a window or vent?

Nevertheless, I do as I am told,

Telling myself I’ll laugh at this when old.

© 2016


3 thoughts on “Corral

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