Just Another Job


It feels like I have been here for ever.
I peek at my watch .
It reads ten o’three.
I get out at three thirty.

I hate flipping patties
I hate frying the fries
How can people think this food is a pleasant surprise?
It’s so greasy and fattening.
How about an apple instead of a heart attack?

Sometimes I dream I could be an astronaut.
I sometimes become inspired by the little rocket on the paper bags.
I could be zooming around the stars,
Or even land on the moon.

But I am stuck here working this dead end job.
An inmate in a prison.
I can see freedom but can’t quite get there.
So I guess I will just make the best of things while I’m here.


Leafing Home


As I gaze up at the trees,
All I can see are their leaves.
A sea of ruffling green,
Which is so pleasurable when seen.

As the seasons begin to unravel
The leaves go into battle,
bleeding crimson.
They are about to complete their final mission.

As each leaf falls one by one,
the season is finally done.