Dog Daze of Summer
These are the Dog Daze of Summer
it’s time to go to work!
Leave by half past eight
and the tin can snake is late again
doing its snail’s waltz on rails.
Play Solitaire in your head,
waste time underground,
anticipate another day in hell—
Reach your destination,
walk through a labyrinth
sprayed by derelicts’ piss—
their eau de toilette wakes you up
faster than the gentrified caffeine
in your upscale paper cup.
Fade into the urban circus
with the rest of the clones—
Grilled shit and trash
give the sidewalks character,
and the stench ain’t much better.
Cabs and bikes want to kill you—
they need the money now
and you’re in the way.
Robots, armed with cell phones
and brief cases, bump into you
because you don’t exist—
the city has a fuck you attitude
and the temperature is rising—
In the cubicle maze,
work for corporate rats
and sit in your designated rut.
Your Mickey Mouse title
keeps your ass glued to your seat.
Bosses send more e-mails
and deadlines were yesterday.
Brown bag lunches
lack power to impress.
Eat alone–
your phone and computer
keep you company—
Your salary’s generous—
the rent and bills thank you,
yet there’s no money for travel.
You dream of summer love
and the past still screws you,
and sex stinks like stale fish.
Your gender’s in name only:
why do anything
when you’re anonymous
like the flowers on your desk?
Watch their dry petals
fall by the minute
and the clock says six-thirty,
and you’re on overdrive,
and the workload is tireless,
and that report is overdue,
and you almost forget to pee—
These are the Dog Daze of Summer:
it’s time to go home!
Leave by half past nine
and the tin can snake is late again,
and the a/c is out
like the one at home . . .
your home sweet microwave
Your thoughts predict the future—
playing Solitaire with your body,
wasting time on an empty bed,
anticipating another night in hell . . .
–Patricia Carragon
Poetry