long ago and not so far away by Ross Vassilev

working as a temp
light assembly
$6 an hour
no rights, no benefits

hated the job
but couldn’t afford
to get fired

imagine boredom
as a kind of death
like drowning
in a bathtub in
the suburbs

if i had a soul
i’d say it was
like an opium poppy
turning to stone

there was one boss
i wanted to punch
in the face but never

i kept on working
doing the same shit
day after day

my soul scattering
like dust
to the universe.


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