F. Scott Fitzgerald
most of us get our blue collars starched
and get to work with the business
that upholds families, maintains our roofs
and cements our floors, intact we
remain nailed to jobs with our blood-
sweat dangles on our thinning hair,
as clothes stick to our heated backs;
collars, stained with the perspiration
of our focus, our make up smearing
in the clearing of a lunch hour
where we may glide down the avenue
have a bite of a sandwich, washed down
with humble pie; combed and ready
to face the other half of day
bells ring, retriever instincts make us
salivate, for dinner time is almost here
the charlie brown in us smiles, without fear
as the best time of the day draws near
9/12/11
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