Friday, November 19, 2010


He told us all he was a truck driver and a damn good one,
but he’d often come back off the road with tickets and dents.

He liked to tell the story of how he was a hero at his old job,
(even made the news) but was laid off the following week.

He’d ask to take certain guys with him to be helpers for the day,
then say “he was as worthless as a bucket with a hole in it”.

He was angry about the racism he faced growing up in Carolina,
but always made fun of his Haitian and Ecuadorian coworkers.

He talked about how he had to take care of his sick wife,
but he’d go out on Friday nights with his young girlfriend.

He’d say he couldn’t stand working with dope heads and druggies,
but he’d hurry his runs to get them on time to the methadone clinic.

He always said he couldn’t work for someone he didn’t have no respect for,
yet when his boss let himself be bullied, he brought his 38 to protect him.

He’d complain about the high cost of pills and prescriptions,
then buy forty to fifty dollars worth of lottery tickets each day.

He’d say he’s never late and if he was, then he wasn’t coming in,
but on most days he always had a reason why he needed to leave early.

No comments: