Poem

This is a poem that I scrawled on a piece of paper after work back in college. Apparently, that night at RPS, a package delivery company, didn't go so well. There's no title I guess, but I bet I could think of some good ones. :-)

Last night when work was through
I sat in my bathroom for fifteen minutes
Under a humming ventilation fan
Musing on my employment. Every night
I pawn out my hours by a conveyor
sending boxes to NC, PA, NE and on and on.
Every night upon rusty grating, my boots
Shutter as belts start and shut off.
The smell of cardboard mingles with diesel,
And dust collects in my nostrils as time
Drips moment by moment, measured by boxes,
Measured by foot ache, measured by workers'
languid movements.
Intermittant talk stagnates like
superficial thought.
While a soup of cardboard flows through the system,
A constipated monster, a five-foot rug jams,
Cramps, stops the flow until something gives,
Splits and spills green packing peanuts,
Smashing contents between steel and wood,
Steel and cardboard, and cardboard and cardboard.
So many moments measured in movements and packages
Lost and sent and broken, but I am untouched.
The belt stops. And I leave.