He snuggled in between the sheets of his bed
And wondered about the word work.
If only he could walk right into the job he wanted,
Sit down,
Take over the controls and fly upward,
He would leave this damn hospital
And take his place in the world.
He'd be most willing to train for such a job
But they would take one look at his physique,
His grades,
Listen to his stammer,
And send him away.
Doctor
Dentist
Lawyer
What could his poor memory do with such study?
And besides which school would accept him?
And if one did who would pay for his tuition?
Amid his contemplation
His shrink offered him a job folding cardboard cartons
At the East End Factory.
Who in their right mind would leave this warm place
To go out into this cold weather
And be pushed with the crowd down the subway
To a factory banging with noise?
Any mule could be made to fold carton after carton.
The nurse brought him his lunch,
Put it on his bed tray and walked off with a smile.
In between bites he wondered about the word work.