Things that fall out of people’s purses call out to me, imploring to be returned to what they are (not done being), what they’re made for, who they used to be with.7 May 2019
Ascending sixty meters to a chimney top, touched the falling dusk. The cold sticky tongue of growling factories behind you.
wear the sun as a face mask,
as in what everyone else is doing,
but also do what you have to,
as in put what you are asked to do first
This is a Cornetto moment,
w/ all the flicked pip mandarins,
& pregnant bellies being rubbed,
under ice-cream umbrellas
They do not see me and I am twelve when I creep into the top corner of the kitchen. I watch them pour tea and drop spoons for years and now I am giggling.
I have stroked their egos, dressed up for them, painted my face for them (((FOR FREE))) for far too long. Only now, in this employment, am I rewarded for my efforts. Only now am I compensated for the endless, thankless task of Making Men Feel Good.
My only question is: where’s my goddamn backpay?