Green, Bean Arms
(A polysyllabic poem that reflects the perspective of a new employee)
Raring to go
as I hustle through the chain linked gate
to my first real job.
I hope they find me helpful.
Lunch packed, shirt buttoned up tight.
These pants are stiff with starch
but I am sure I’ll wear them in.
Blending in instead of being “the new guy”
Because everyone despises a new guy.
They won’t have to take time from their day
to train a young guy like me.
Because I am smart
I should have gone to college.
But money is faster than a degree
and I can make it hard like them.
As long as they don’t break my back.
My hands are soft when I shake his hand
and a smirk is revealed from the old gentleman.
I can already feel my forearm burning with new muscle growth
as he hands me a discerningly gestured “hello”.