Employee

(9th May 2006, 6.30pm)

Outdated cardboard mess under the Fire Exit steps
is being ruthlessly undressed
by a Mrs -you wouldn't remember her name,
faces have been more important, tucked under tea cups,
even if she is
steadily dissolving in the rain.
Summoned by a bell
like an estate agent, to a house you didn't want to buy,
she'll sell you whatever you decided
was too large to steal
-didn't fit in the heal of neon sports trainers
that suggest you wanted to reward yourself for something.
But Everything is bought
and perhaps running past the hording one day
you realise this
and spare a thought for mrs-such and such
then find too much of yourself
invested in a machine that you're not
chased out of options and sold by the quarter.

EVERYTHING
IS BOUGHT AND SOLD BY THE QUARTER
AT THE CHEESE COUNTER.

Had you found your excess abstracts earlier,
maybe of been there with a smile or some gratitude for her
you'd still have seen it too late.
the senseless waste the job created, climbing on top.
stopping up her ability to express,
to suffer,
now permanently mounted
like a pigs head
at the cheese counter.

gnome