Dogmatism
most probably
all of us
whoever we are
are just sitting there
in the jobcentre
waiting
with this one light
flickering,
this one long rectangle light
blinking,
buzzing
like an injured wasp
having death throe
after death throe:
buzz buzz buzz
blink blink blink
for half an hour … an hour and a half … two hours and five minutes:
buzz buzz buzz
blink blink blink
until
finally this big dude says JESUS CHRIST and he gets up, stands on his chair
and punches up at it –
the dimpled rectangular casing clattered over his shoulder and onto the floor
and then, right, he wrenches the bulb out of the ceiling,
and it’s hot so he runs over to the doors hissing SHIT, SHIT, SHIT
and flings it outside – we hear it smash on the steps
and then he stands there
waving his red hand
as he looks around at us all,
says sorry, but that was getting me on tits
and you know what the staff did? nothing.
in fact:
thank god, one of the girls at the desks whispered to another.
that was getting on my tits and all, that was, she said
as her colleague nodded,
eyeing the big dude
up and down.
even the security guard just shook his head
and smiled patiently.
well, he was a foot shorter than him.
that big dude,
he will probably get a job changing jobcentre light bulbs,
they’ll hand him some title
like “council light distributor apprentice”
or something
and he’ll be changing the buzzing bulbs
above your head
for years to come.
“jobsearch” course 85
there are rooms
in your town
you have never seen
rooms on the outskirts of your town
grey plastic rooms
owned by your council
and in these rooms
they put us:
the terminally unemployed
you have never seen us either
but we are here
in these grey plastic council rooms
on the outskirts of your town
more and more of us
crammed into
more and more of these rooms,
running along the outskirts of your town
a grey plastic ring
of council rooms
surrounding your affluent centre
swelling, closing in
one day
your whole town
will be a grey plastic council room
and then you will see us.