whatever it takes

you've been fired,
laid off
or have quit so many
jobs.
the list is almost
too long
to remember.
cutting grass,
mopping halls,
digging ditches.
stapling long
furry batts of pink
insulation
into new homes,
washing dishes.
you've delivered
papers. sat in a
smoke filled box
and called all
your friends
trying to get them
jobs. you've sent
short stories
and poetry
into contests
to make a few
bucks. you've
tarred walls,
waited on tables,
laid bricks,
chopped wood,
plumbed pipes,
painted houses
off of forty foot
ladders.
you've hung wall
paper onto ceilings
for priests
and old ladies.
you've sat in a coat
and tie in front
of a computer
until your fingers
bled and your
mind fried.
you've stood in
the unemployment line
to get a check
from the state.
and when there was
nothing, you rolled
nickles and dimes
to take to the bank.
only this, this that
you do for nothing has
given you pure
pleasure.