When I Worked at That Warehouse.

When I Worked At That Warehouse.
By
James Robert Smith


We were on the
labor crew.
on the loading dock.
Six of us.
All of us either small and wiry
or big and stocky.
50/50 split.
We’d get in before first light
and struggle with huge
boxes
with desks
filing cabinets
heavy stuff.
We’d do this for
eight hours
reeking of sweat and blood.
Then we’d clock out
together
and go squinting
into the bright daylight.
I wanted us all to raise
our arms into the air
and sing
and dance
and skip
like big faggots to our
cars.
But we never did.