the layoffA Poem by delapruchna.more the norm than the exception in this wonderful capitalist rape room where coming into work can mean leaving early without a job & a pink slip, with a pat on the back & a “thanks for being such a good worker”--- armed with all the facetious nonsense that emanates from the mouths of higher-ups, whose jobs are just a little more secure than your own, making them bent further over the table with the drill shoved so deep up inside them that you couldn’t pull it out with a f*****g forklift, if you even dared to try.
and on the day you come in & they’ve taken away some of your coworkers, leaving you “alive” as far as the workforce goes (for one more day), you feel an odd sense of guilt & blame, like it should have, like it could have, like it will be you--- much like on imagines a survivor of a plane crash sees the deaths of their co-flyers as a precursor to their own fessing up to that certainty of mortality, you close your mouth with a sudden horror--- because these people were your friends, as far as the workplace is concerned--- you’ve spent hours, weeks & years with them & their fate has been decided with a f*****g red pen & a greeting at the door when they were coming in, because the higher-ups didn’t even have the goddamned decency to give them a call prior to the beginning of the work day--- so now, they hang their heads, some cry, and in the eyes of all of them is a new terror…a head full of “what am i gonna do?” adding them to the legions of america’s growing unemployed--- oh the wonderful “land of the free,” where you can smile as long as you are f*****g economically viable.
tomorrow, they go online to file for unemployment, to start the hardest job that there is--- looking for a job.
and you miss them. and you hope the best for them. and you know the cards are stacked against them. and you know neither obama or romney is gonna f*****g help them. and you go to sleep so you can get up in the morning & go back to the slaughterhouse, hoping today isn’t your day (always tense & ready for your time) & hoping that wherever they are, that they are ok. © 2012 delapruch |
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Added on September 11, 2012 Last Updated on September 11, 2012 Authordelapruchnothingville, NYAboutBio: The writer we call delapruch has been writing since infancy. His first piece was scrawled on the inside of his mother’s womb. Long since published, the rights now reside in the hands o.. more..Writing
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