Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Random Poetry Found While Packing -- 3


Through Clenched Teeth

It's a jack shit fuckin' day
the body's at work
mind's out to play
the sun's bright
its great outside
numbers keep dancing off the page
I ain't doing fuckin' jack today

I left in the middle of what I was doing
cataloging shoes
ordering inventory
the phone is ringing
fuck it
I don't care
told that shit head boss of mine
I needed to go use the can
' was too lazy to lift the lid
I let it piss all over the dam seat
she can sit in it
It's a jack shit fuckin' day

Here alone
selling z-coils
no one's come in the door for days
I need more coffee
but ten bucks is all she pays
I ain't supposed to leave
I'm tired of fuckin' instant
the sun is out
Pine Street looks great
walkers have long legs
but you know what?
I ain't doing fuckin' jack today.

Fuck You Boss
I'm gonna play

---William James, February 22, 2005. The piece was found on Tuesday, August 16, 2011 while sorting and packing

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