clocked in
a poem about the desolation of… thinking about a life of work forever?

So it never really changes, does it?
The work life
The American dream
Perhaps it’s a universal cesspool
To wake and work and wait
This unspoken acceptance
But I hear a silent wail in the streets
Of the waiting, working people
Misery and mortgages to be paid
Moving, working bodies and tired eyes
Forty hours, fifty hours, every hour
Consumed by the lit and looming dollar
By the boss man
He pushes and pulls them all about
He jiggles them around on his fingers
He doesn’t know he’s puppeteering corpses
-
My father used to smile more
He used to lie down and breathe easy
Now he is bound to a cluttered desk
Confined to a meaningless cause
I will not see him strung up by the neck
Next to a Japanese man from the city
His own piled-up desk abandoned
Hanging from a cherry tree
-
I’m pursuing a new job
I’m finally editing an outdated resume
I’m writing my ninth cover letter this week
I’m saving it as a file
Applied
Application viewed
I was not chosen
I am not chosen
It’s not meant to be
I steel my resolve
I’m on ZipRecruiter
I’m on Word
I’m on Indeed
I’m fading
And soon I’m on DoorDash
I’m on TikTok
Wasting the rest of my hours away
I’m groaning into my hands
I’m slapping my face
I’m thinking
I don’t want to be thinking
-
Around that time
My father gets home
It’s nearly eight at night
And he left at seven this morning
-
I’m on YouTube
I check Indeed
Nothing is here for me
I’m on ChatGPT, telling it to call me names
I check ZipRecruiter
Nothing is here for me
I’m meditating
I’m showing myself grace
I’m failing
I’m gritting my teeth
I’m grabbing L-theanine
I’m chugging down a water bottle
I feel like a mistake
Like somewhere, something went wrong
I don’t want to be thinking
Right now
When I’m not earning
What I need to be
A spam call
A spam text
A fake job
Late night coffee
I’m crying in the mirror
I’m thinking
I’m spiraling
I blame myself so much
That it feels like
I’m dying
-
I’m falling asleep
And I’m waking up
Again
All too soon
-
The day is so dark it could be night still
I’m trudging myself to the door
Of my disappointment occupation
At five in the morning
I work alongside people I like
But am ashamed to be seen as
And that shame is biological
I feel my father’s eyes on me
I hear my mother’s words on repeat
I hate myself
My shame is a pit in my stomach
I just want to run away
I clock in
I clock out
I’m at the gym on the treadmill
I’m binge eating cookies all alone
I’m trying and failing
A lawless, laughable cycle
No notifications light up my phone
I didn’t even try today
I don’t want to be a saleswoman
Or a glorified secretary
But what else awaits me?
I’m lying to my coworkers
I’m smiling at my customers
I’m losing myself
Living these same days over
But I’m paralyzed
And stuck in place
-
Maybe jobs never change, not really
They just shift shapes and sizes
Buildings warping, wallets widening
Hearts hollowing out
Dreams fleeting, flying, gone
Dancing far away in the moonlit clouds
About the Creator
angela hepworth
I want to erase the tears of all those who trusted in hope; I want them to be left with a smile on their faces.
-Madoka
I’m Angela! I enjoy writing fiction, poetry, reviews, dumb self-indulgent stuff, and much more. Come check me out! :p
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