reb
his real name
was: marshall,
but everyone
called him: reb,
which was short
for: rebel.
after so many years
of working in the field,
he was brought into the
office to perform
a reality check on all
the theoretical designers.
with none of the pettiness
of the limp-dicked weasels,
when reb spoke,
it came from an
appalachian hardwood
as direct as
a straight line.
reb would turn on
the lights in the morning
& turn them off when he left
at night, never stopping
to be bothered by eating.
except for fridays
when he had a liquid lunch
to compensate for working
like a mule all week.
his face would turn red,
his speech would slur,
& this tall tree would become
a large pile of splinters.
not much of a return
for all his investment.
ray gates
his wife took their children
to church that morning.
I imagine him walking
through the quiet house
before he sat at the table
to write the note.
THE JOB consumed his life.
it forced him to disregard
all which was sacred
& made itself GOD.
he had fallen behind.
no matter whether
he stayed late or worked
on the weekends,
the amount of accounting
reports which were due
never seemed to be
finished as fast as
they wanted them.
it had to be all his fault.
somebody owed an
explanation to the
shareholders, he must
have thought as he
placed the gun to his head.
someone had to pay.
the way it is
the city smells in summer:
cigarette smoke & bus fumes
are baked with the soot clinging
to old stone buildings
this odor is what makes
the city what it is –
the blood which
sustains the heart
& allows life to flow
all around
I stand on the curb
& inhale everything
because this is
who I am
the temps
they are usually brought
on board to fill the gaps
created by laying off
too many people.
no benefits
or guarantees,
they are on site
until the particular
project is completed
or the allotted
funds are spent.
none of them place
personal items on their desks,
like framed photographs
of their kids.
most of the "regular"
employees won't even
bother to learn their names
or treat them little more
than being half human.
you only hear that they are gone
after you discover your calculator
is missing.
deaf, dumb & blind
those of you
who cannot believe
that poetry exists in
an office environment
have never heard
the howl of a trapped dog
moments before he chews off
his own leg