From 2007
The breakthrough came early.
I sat between two men,
a veiny Mexican (the driver),
and someone’s grandpa.
I held a foiled container
of bacon in my lap.
The old man’s fleshy elbows
brushed against me when
he buckled his belt. I held the base
up-right so he could click-it.
The thick-armed Mexican
asked me in broken English
Easy, si?
I nodded, absent of him,
the new job, the loading dock,
the truck full of carts
they expected me to push.
Easy yes, but he would
never again see me at the dock,
in this truck, with sizzling bacon in my lap.
I refused to spend another day
with the fat man’s elbow
hanging near my hips.
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