He spends his lunch hour with all the chickens in the coop
Read the headlines,
wash the cups,
and the plumbing team let it be calm
14 years with the farm,
not a single sick day out
Polishing,
moving the fractures,
and the smoke and the cleaners
Closer than you can get
Shake his hand on Christmas time,
shake his throat if you could only
Give him a job well done,
or slap him in the mouth
If he makes a mistake and the buck stops here
You
always give
to the social club collection Head like a silt,
a shallow smile,
hard to match a hideous invention
She
does her nails while her mouth pains and lullabies
Being stuck to the Xerox with no cigarette machine
Teasing and baiting that silly little singsong voice
You shut up if you want this job,
don't complain,
you've got no choice
Lip cloth,
duck shells,
Indian file,
half-past four Whisper in the corridor as soon as her
back is turned
Last in line in the back, back, back,
backing order
Last in line in the back,
back,
back,
backing order
Last in line in the back,
back,
back,
backing order
Last in line in the back,
back,
back,
backing order
Clerks
do their best
to make her feel uneasy She turns away
and struggles with a sentence
But the language isn't easy.