On the Job: Brick House

Falling behind at work, orders banging up one against another, not enough space, too much glass, paint smudges on cheeks, boxes, packing peanuts, bubble wrap, linseed oil tipped over into a pond on the floor (my clumsiness), zip codes, shipping labels, FRAGILE, always another flaw for which I must invent a solution.

Push, push and more push.

This came on the radio, and I cranked it up to a vase-shattering volume and danced —

Hungry, I buttoned up my black corduroy jacket today and lugged my lunch outside to eat in the company of a single crow cackling it up on the telephone wire.