the boss of me

one boss kept a pad
in his pocket to write down
hours worked.
to the minute. subtracting
for lunch, for breaks, for
clean up.
another boss, said I knew
nothing.
yelling at me in the office,
a cigarette
clenched in his teeth.
his shirt sleeves rolled
up like a bantam boxer
about to go into the ring.
one boss was mysterious.
bland as toast.
never saying what he meant,
never meaning what he
said. another boss
would ride by in his
white Cadillac to see how
the job was going.
he was suntanned with a slick
mane of brown hair.
he liked to show us his golf
clubs in the trunk.
his new girlfriend would
be sitting in the car
doing her nails. but
there were good bosses too.
kind and compassionate,
telling me to stay home,
sleep, get some rest, you
don't sound well.