your boss
is mean. he spits
when he talks.
telling you how
worthless you are.
how you can be
replaced by half
a man, or even
easier by a machine.
don't talk, he says.
do your work
and keep your mind
on the job
at hand. you're
lucky, he says to
be here. there are
men on the street with
more brains than
you that would take
this job for half
your salary. he
laughs as he leaves
the room. and as
you grind the next
piece metal down,
you wonder what
keeps you here.
what fear within
holds you to the fire
of this. making
you less a man
than those out there.
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