Dave, the former soldier: a tacky queen
wearing his muscles, musk and torn jeans.
Larry was mellow, vain, friendly, simple.
He'd shot a man. Two years in jail.
Katrina: fine and small and smart and absent,
she nibbled clay the month she was pregnant.
Mean Tom with his midnight skin and swagger,
“Don't Ask Me For Shit” t-shirt, scar.
We found Pete on the floor tight and twitching.
Off his meds. He eventually went missing.
At twenty-five they made me the boss.
In two weeks I showed them I was clueless
and incompetent. Empty shelves and the shop a mess.
It was not the first job I had lost.
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