everyday

I could never
do that, the man
in a clean pressed
suit says
to you, as you both
watch the workers
climbing high onto
the roof, the weight
of tiles and nails,
tar and glue
bending them thickly
in the sunlight,
their legs angled
so as not
to fall and die.
I could never do
what they do, he says.
could you? everyday,
you tell him. with
no place else to go.
everyday.