Each month, write a new collection.
How I survived working at J. Chuckles although it was a hard job and a boring job and the pay wasn’t greatTwo things:1. The library at lunch hour. I went into the 42nd street annex of the big lion library because it was open stack and I would go in and sneak in my can of tuna and eat that and read kafka or any book I found on the shelves. It was quiet and cool and there was the smell of tuna and words.2. The carry back from the dressing room. Everyone hated this job because it was tiring, but oh the ability to move instead of standing endlessly by the shirts. Oh the feeling of the hangers in my hands and the clothes — all unwanted, all discarded — thrown over my shoulders. I felt like a miner returning from the mines of blue jeans and tops. I was santa claus with his sack of goodies to bring back to the departments. I would walk and swagger and I didn’t have to wait for the people to look at the shirts and mess up their order. Oh the ability to walk through the store as the managers glared. I glared back with my plastic hangers and I kept on trucking as they used to say in the day.
She comes in once a weekA vibrant light, amonst a crowd of blank facesHer eyes glimmer with happinessAnd cherub lips that brighten the worldWhen she smilesAnd smile she doesOftenSo full of joySo positiveShe radiates a heavenly glowWhen she laughsAnd the warmth of her touch surrounds youWhen she hugs you, you feel God reaching outAlways happy to see youAlways interested in youYou'd never knowShe is dying
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