Tonight's Poet Corner: Misfit Manager

Misfit Manager
by Belinda Roddie

She had green hair,
wore torn up black jeans,
and tried her best to be
everyone's friends. But

all the cashiers pined
for the guillotine, and all
the stockers felt like crushing
their own spines with the

endless
endless
endless
boxes of product.

And the cart pushers? Well,
they had a plan to mow down
that "alternative lifestyle"
bitch with dozens upon dozens

of jacked up, rusty-hinged
germ-speckled,
toothmark-riddled, jittery
skeletons on four wheels.

But she didn't give up, and
when the annual pizza party
arrived, she offered a guest
services grunt her slice. Too

bad the poor guy was lactose
intolerant, and she ended up
with a better paying tech job
lodged in San Francisco's asscrack.