Poem of the Day 03.13.23

good job

at the end
of a merit-based society
it’s still just a headstone
or ash

i have never needed to be told
that i’ve done a good job

at least not at the ones that pay my bills

if you like a poem
a short story
or a novel i’ve written

i can sometimes accept that

although even that is faint praise in the end
when i’m faced with a new blank page

but never at a job

if a boss or co-worker says to me
good job

i stop and wonder what i’ve done wrong

i recalibrate my time
and fuck around for the rest of the day

make them think twice
about ever uttering that nonsense phrase my way again

i’ve worked jobs for nearly forty years
and i’ve railed against them
for almost just as long

something between me and capitalism never clicked

i can’t even fake it

good job
good job
it’s such bullshit

everyone looking for praise
in between the twines of the hangman’s noose

when we all should be
looking for a way out
with our souls and spirits intact

but i’ll keep blowing sunshine up your ass
and you’ll keep blowing it up mine

a ticking time bomb of

good job
good job
good job

exploding the precious moments we’ve been giving

ripping a huge hole through the fabric
of our one and only
short existence

headstones and ashes
our reward in the end.