nine feet down

the worst job
you ever had was digging ditches.
slapping tar
onto the side of new houses
that were cracked
from the footer up,
allowing water to seep into
the basements.
nine feet down, a long narrow
ditch, two feet wide,
in the clay and mud.
hammering boards
to keep it from collapsing
and crushing your
lungs before they could
dig you out. a knotted rope
was lowered for escape.
in the winter.
the shovels broke when stamped
into the ground.
the metal, frozen
and cracked. the axes would
bounce and nearly
strike you.
sometimes you'd stand with
the lucky others,
a cup of 7-11
coffee, around a barrel
of fire, rubbing your hands
together, shivering,
waiting for the sun to
get higher.
you're still waiting.