Thursday, September 3, 2009


it started to be hard, talking to the backs of people's heads
feeling compelled to repeat my lines
over and over
knowing full well
most of what I said
was being ignored
if it was being acknowledged at all
I began to take pleasure more often
in the mistakes and misfortunes of others
the clients,
their successes,
I wished for the opportunity to feel
more useful
to tackle a knife wielding client gone mad
saving clerks and the public
in the nick of time
getting heroically injured doing so
the monotony of it
the well meaning client who'd say
gee, you must have a really boring job!
I didn't need reminding
I repeated the same phrases
roughly 300 times a day
the contrails of a hundred perfumes
followed women past me
some smell very good
other people
some of them smell very bad
the scents of people are beginning to seem
more unique than the people themselves
the days are dragging more and more
but the weeks are whipping by

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