workingmans tale

by normal

gotta job thru manpower that day
in ’65 & was sent to a country
club outside boston where i was
given a small metric ruler & a
cuticle scissors & told to start
cutting every blade of grass on
the tennis court because poncho
gonzalez was coming to town &
for 2 days on my hands & knees
i cut & cut & cut & was pd 28
bucks which i promptly spent on
a bag of dope but the candyman
never came back so i returned
to my flat in the southend empty
handed — my lady asked where
i had been & what i had been doin
& i said “nuthin,” i said, “nuthin.”