i stock shelves,
intelligence not required.
good for me
we are located
in a surrounding neighbourhood
filled with oddballs.
of course, i do work there
so how can i be so surprised?
i guess i never realized
the variances in peoples.
cookie cutter norms
have proved incorrect.
what experience cannot.
labels limit exceptions
damaging true value.
i work early.
isn’t that just something before ready?
i work late.
and isn’t that just something missed?
I seem to work when i’m not ready.
yes, of course, i’m told my work schedule before hand,
but it’s always a surprise.
6 years of the same job,
and yet, i’m still not comfortable in its control.
i work because it’s what everyone else is doing.
on the way, though, i’ve enjoyed the few people
i’ve connected with, be the connection very slim.
at least we have something in common,
we dislike work.
i was told i have soft hands.
it’s true, but they’re not newborn.
it was an interaction with an older man who was a brick layer assistant.
i was having a smoke.
he asked my why i was alone, then inquired whether i worked here.
i told him we have different breaks and yes, i work here.
he showed me his hands,
gnarled gloves unflinching of manual labour.
what he didn’t speak to me, his hands spoke.
he didn’t know who i was,
and i didn’t know who he was.
his advice, tailored more towards manual labour,
made me appreciate my job even more.
he told me if what i work gets me from point a to b,
that’s all that’s needed.
i don’t disagree with him there.
we are constantly traveling between points,it’s just the matter of connecting the dots.
my break had ended and i thanked him
for what i didn’t think.