Work
by Charlie Hill
I’ve never been drawn to young men
who stand wide-legged;
supervisors and the like,
with their hair and their shoes
and the obedience of their ambition.
Neither am I partial
to booze-veined managers,
clutching mid-life interests,
keeping everything
except defeat pent-up.
Fuck it, I’ve never wanted to be like them –
because who would? –
even if my lofty rejection
of the expected
is futile in at least three ways.
