the pay stub

we would

analyze

out pay checks,

the perforated stub,

on pay day, which was 

Friday

after the clock had been punched

in the trailer

at the edge

of the construction site.

we'd sit,

with our empty lunch

pails,

our dirty hats,

tilted

in the sun, and moan

about

the taxes taken out.

we couldn't believe how

the man

was keeping us down.

we'd shake our heads,

then get to the bank before

it closed.

there was beer to drink,

girls to chase.

and if lucky,

there was something left

over for rent

and gas,

food for the week,

and a phone hanging

on the kitchen wall

in the one bedroom 

man cave.