Work Hurts by Jeff Bagato

 

It doesn’t hurt to walk into an office
as a temp when they don’t know why
you’re there—somehow it’s expected
that at the Post Office they’d be lost
in the bureaucratic chain—just give
me a corner desk to hide in and I’ll
survive this, too, something to type
now and then between rummaging drawers
of some absent stranger’s desk—
would I have any shame? These
quarters will go unmissed,
and anything else I can touch—
it’s not the work or the waiting
but the agony of following orders
from people so much more
stupid than you can believe

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One Response to “Work Hurts by Jeff Bagato”

  1. […] Poetry blog Rusty Truck posted my poem “Work Hurts” today in company with a batch of outlaw writing. This piece refers to a short-lived temp work assignment I had at the main USPS office in DC many years ago. You can read it here. […]

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