I need a job.
I need some cash.
Nothing too intense.
Something that won’t last.
Jobs can defeat you,
grind you up and eat you
in a double meat patty
of rage and disillusionment.
All around me,Â
people stare
like they’re anyplaceÂ
else but here.
If you want respect,Â
get a dog, not a job.
See yourself hereÂ
in ten years?
Run!
