Vigil In Aisle Two

VIGIL IN AISLE TWO      -  11.10.2003

The overhead lights float
Miles above his head
Their desolate tubing taunting his misery
With a careless flicker, while
His broom pushes today's grime
About the concrete floor.
Through glazed eyes which ache for sleep
Dancing a two-step with a dreary mop
-Gotta pay the phone bill
Have to prove I can live on my own-
The aisles are his prison bars.
Cereal and herbal shampoo
His life seems wasted already,
Working where they'll hire him.
Tomorrow is Inspection Day;
Six shifts in a row to stay in line
And pay the rent
Makes 16 oz. cups of coffee his novacaine.
His eyes burn and his body wilts with exhaustrion
The candles in aisle two
Are lit for the death of his childhood
Are lit for his entrance into the workforce
That is so often a lie
At barely eighteen.