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 trenches—
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.