one summer
i was flipping
burgers, dropping
baskets of frozen
fries into the
deep boiling
oil, having it
splatter up
and scar me for
life. i had a
little nehru
hat, a white shirt
with stripes
like a teenage
convict about
to break big
rocks into little
rocks. a whole
summer in a hot
broiling kitchen
for about
five hundred bucks
the hard way.