You dodge the death machines to get to the ramp
to dodge more to get to the parking lot. Why?
Swing up the third rank and make sure to park
facing the exit. Now your focus tightens
from the landscape and roadway
(as well as those daydream visions
of her and there)
to the front seat,
steering wheel,
keys, briefcase.

Step out and lock up. Walk toward the building,
that mausoleum of youthful hopes.
You don’t see it though. Like the rest,
you’ve got your head down. Instead
you perceive right foot, left foot,
right arm swinging,
peripheral grass
and birdsongs. Listen!

Push through the door, look at your chest
to insure your ID badge with its
20-years younger You (even though
it’s only been 10) faces this barren world’s
uniformed Cerebrus.
Shiny black floors,
institutional atmosphere,
the escalator
with its electric train smell,
its sides roll behind you,
its steps don’t. Stop!
Turn at the top and walk down the dark hallway
to the empty darker office. Fire up the computer
for one more day closer to any escape. Write…

You dodged death machines to get to this place
Don’t let it kill you.

6 thoughts on “Monday…Again

  1. I like how, despite the bleakness of the poem, the last line kind of inspires the person to not let himself or herself get “killed” by the day job. It’s like the poem isn’t blaming the job but, instead, challenges the worker to “stay alive”.

  2. I find this interesting for many reasons. I like the humour, dark though it is; I find the little details of observation are just right, and I enjoy the rhythm of the words and lines. There’s also a personal interest for me, because I’m working on a series of poems of my own which try to look at life through work – and here is a magnificent example, full of strong atmosphere. Splendid!

  3. I sense a lot of hope at the end of this work inspired poem…well written & from the heart, Joe. No, don’t let it kill you…not now…so much to look forward to 🙂 xoxo

  4. This breaks my heart. The physical detail and the mental landscape mesh very well. It breaks my heart because we spend so much of our life in exactly this state of mind….trying to survive to survive.

    But it brings forth great poetry….and this is a haunting piece of that.

    The vast majority of us have no escape and the best we can do is to turn these daily events to something of poetry. Perhaps that is the essence of creativity?

    Lady Nyo

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