Day Job

Drinking cheap faux-Cuban coffee
trying to stay awake for my new job
at the Museum of Science and Industry

I’m overdrawn $90 on my bank account
which for a poet
is pretty good

There’s a private hell on every face on the train at 7 a.m.
single Latina mothers on their way to the Cinnabon stand
lonely old men with permanent hard-ons leaving the peepshow
day runners with giant headphones listening to Herbie Hancock
or Carlos Santana or books on tape and me going to my first day
at the museum and all we know is that we all hate this

They’ll show me how to take tickets today
while families share popsicles quickly
and dads line their baby carriages up
in neat rows and when the last weird European with a backpack
makes his way into the 3:45 showing of Dinos Alive!
I’ll try to figure it out for us

if you try to
while the fat kid brings his danish back
or the microchip company bottoms out
or you unsuccessfully try for sleep
another night of mopping up sperm

and we’ll meet back on the train tomorrow
at 7 a.m.
silently exchanging notes

like a book club
that can’t escape
the worst novel ever written

like a study group
without funds

Tomorrow
they’re going to show me how to operate the flight simulator

and if there’s time
make announcements

and I’ll nod
and smile my way
right past zero

until I make rent

if you try to
while the war veteran complains about his cruller
or the microchip company gets bought out by another microchip company
or you get two hours of sweaty sleep
blown out pussies and dicks in your dreams

but hey

it’s a living

© 2008 Lee Kitzis