I've known the pleasures of being
fired at least eleven times—

most notably by Larry who found my snood
unsuitable, another time by Jack,
whom I was sleeping with. Poor attitude,
tardiness, a contagious lack
of team spirit; I have been unmotivated

squirting perfume onto little cards,
while stocking salad bars, when stripping
covers from romance novels, their heroines
slaving on the chain gang of obsessive love—

and always the same hard candy
of shame dissolving in my throat;

handing in my apron, returning the cash-
register key. And yet, how fine it feels,
the perversity of freedom which never signs
a rent check or explains anything to one's family...

Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 1188 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Erin Belieu (Erin Belieu Art)
Poem: From On Being Fired Again
Volume: One Above & One Below
Year: Published/Written in 2001
Poem of the Day: Feb 18 2010
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