And What Do You Do? (Velvet Rut)

It was just a little ditch
Back down around Poverty Lane,
But when I peeked and fell inside,
I lost my way out again.

I should get up at 6 AM.
I ought be up by half-seven.
I know I’ll be around around 9;
But everyday it’s pretty much ten.

Usually I’m shaved real good.
Showered? Oh, most certainly.
Dressed to assault the trenchesβ€”
Applying for jobs all too vainly.

Applications by the dozens,
Resumes by the score,
But never even offered an interview;
I don’t know what I must do to do more.

I attend all the best meetings:
Job clubs: North and LaunchPad, and yet
Nothing ever ever comes from it,
Even Mock yields promises unmet.

But this is on little old me.
This is my responsibility, I feel.
It’s nose to the grindstone to get hired
Only by applying said shoulder to that darn wheel.

It was just a little hole,
A velvet rut with a promise of dreams.
But getting hired in this here town
Is proving a bit harder than it seems.


About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on July 22, 2013, in Poem. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. Most Illustrious Lady Daughter

    AWWWWW! That’s so incredibly sad. πŸ˜£πŸ˜­πŸ˜’πŸ˜­πŸ˜­πŸ˜–πŸ˜–πŸ˜–πŸ˜–πŸ˜”πŸ˜”πŸ˜žπŸ˜žπŸ˜°

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