gig-economy workers outside the starbucks
they want to be the one
to bring you your
caramel ribbon crunch frappuccino,
colson
deliver your
cookie crumble mochaccino
straight to your door on this hot summer day,
declan
you and kylen
just need to get up out of bed before noon
and get on that app pronto
seamless
paypal
grub hub
venmo
uber eats
apple pay
doordash
the world is your oyster
after a long, hard week
working from home again
gig-economy workers outside the starbucks
on a merciless, humid eighty-five-degree morning
with a heat index of one-hundred
and it looks like a moped show
mexican men with helmets on
trying to make a buck in the plastic hustle of america
frantically checking their phones
for java chip orders
salted caramel concoctions
mango dragonfruit lemonades
or whatever flavor
those wonkas in corporate will think up next
men by the dozen
standing anxiously around the door
waiting to dodge traffic
and run red lights
for pennies on the dollar
for the round-up money
to deliver that
vanilla sweet cream cold brew
to otis or emnet
or ethel or mable
some twenty-five-year-old
with a geriatric name
whose time is too important
if only you’d get up
and get on that app now, amelia
or charlotte
or dylan
or liam, oliver and elijah
and place that order
so that all those phones could ding
like a symphony
all over the block
and man upon man
could claw at each other
to get inside the corporate brewer's front door
where your pineapple passionfruit refresher
is on the counter waiting for you, harper
your name in big, black letters
on the cup
with a big fucking smiley face
drawn on the sucker too.
No comments:
Post a Comment