Work.
I stand up here with a fake-ass grin
on my exhausted face.
It’s 8:26 in the morning
and I am the enslaved retail boy.
Asking fat-ass swamp people, “Can
do anything else for you?”
They sure as hell better deny my offer.
For I’ve done more than enough in order
to please these reeking creatures.
It’s 8:29.
I am awake, working, and bagging
Depends and Vagisil for morbidly
obese rednecks.
Can I do anything else for you…
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