Men at Work
Behind the counter
in the church attic
teenage hangout
after school, weekend nights
selling candy, making milkshakes
flirting with the longhairs
waiting for one to call
in your dad’s big easy chair
Helter Skelter open
in your skinny lap
behind another counter
ringing up burgers, fries
grease clinging to freckles
your waist-length braid
biker boy punches in
black helmet covering
his pockmarked face
hands racing all over you
managers laughing loudly
in the manner of old men
behind another counter
cash register at KFC
alone and bored and afraid
someone could want more
than chicken one summer
more freedom to move
from hotel room to room
strip sheets, scrub toilets
tubs of vomit and condoms
when a stranger walks in
slams the door, presses you
against an unmade bed
he steals a Kodak camera
from the guest’s luggage
only college saves you
not from men at work
but from victimhood
sweet naiveté
and raw youth.
That’s how it happens
She told you it was bursitis
because she didn’t want to say cancer
because you were all so young
because she couldn’t do much after
so you took on her chores
because she died young
so you kept the family going
because you were the responsible one
so the guidance counselor at school
because he was worried about your friend
because he thought you could influence her
because she was so wild
because you met her neighbors
because they were wild too
so you went to the cemetery
because one had a pint of vodka
because he worked pumping gas
because he says he peaked that year
because she moved away
because maybe she peaked then too
because she married three times
because the first seduced school kids
because the second beat on her kids
so maybe you all peaked back then
because the drinking was easy
because the vodka was tasteless
because vodka is odorless
because that’s how it happens
and keeps on happening.
Kitchen Duties
Washing dishes at the sink
while your siblings dine
on the meals you cooked
spraying dishes by the bulk
with steaming institutional rinse
mornings in the cafeteria
too much with a hangover
after frat party after party
bar crawl after bar crawl
promotion to assistant chef
tossing salads by the hundreds
giant mixers beating batters
cornbread, biscuits, pancakes
weak coffee by the gallon
paying your way through college
an internship with a stipend
pale green rooms, weekday meals
at the crumbling state institution
planning menus for the insane
on a suspiciously small budget
too many fingers in the stew
sliced bologna and white bread
cling peaches in syrup, blued
milk the hue of winter sky
out your windows hollow men
linger on stone benches
women in mismatched shoes
wander in a drugout daze
the employee dorm unlocked
you’d never felt so safe.