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

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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