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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