The Unmagnificent Lives of Adult Men
Called to work on a Sunday, despite the government mandate, dragging
Unwilling feet, one by one, up the steps to my office, I am greeted
By the last thing I expected today:
A smile
Worn by an older co-worker who pats me on my shoulder
And walks away. His feet almost gliding.
This happens five more times.
Each greying, thin haired, pot-bellied, loose skinned, wrinkled handed,
Bowlegged, hunchbacked, glasses-too-big-or-small-for-their-face, big eared,
Skinny legged, no-shoulders having old man
Is walking up and down the steps,
To and fro the office compound,
With a pep in their step and a fat smile on their lips.
Fucking hell…
I want to grab one by their drooping shoulders and shake
Them awake, ask them do you have nothing else to do? Is this
All you have got going for you? Don’t you have a hobby? A book
You wanna read? A TV show you really like? A movie
You’ve been meaning to watch? Friends to hang out with? For God’s sake,
Don’t you love your wife and kids? Wouldn’t you rather
Spend time with them? Or even
By yourself?
By the seventh pat on my shoulder, I try to smile too
While I ball the hands in my pockets to fists.
Poetry by Sameen
Read 11 times
Written on 2026-06-11 at 16:56
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Kee Zealy |
