"Da Fugue Zone #20: Consumer Cooperative Bookstore"
Deskilled & vomiting gold fog
The register a factory, their words stepping
On the pedal of your tongue, e-mail
Deskilled my tongue, how it could hover
With your raw parts
Vomiting gold, vomiting gold
You bag a book, watch it go through the
Bindery, pulp at both ends
On Monday the manager confiscated your
“N,” on Friday your “O”, you try
To say “No,” there’s just a scab
In the air, during the Friday rush you
Think you are being eaten alive
By a pack of small dogs
On Monday, you realize that’s too
Dramatic, you’re just a chew toy
For know-it-all adjuncts of the ruling class
Which might be worse, anyway
You go to say this to your coworker
But you both end up vomiting gold
Joe Hall
is a deprofessionalizing academic and author of four books of poems.
Twitter: @joehalljoehall