The Next Break by Geoff Hattersley

Working for this
stupid agency
they like me too
tired to think straight.
I spent eight hours today
folding paper in half
and sealing envelopes
in a large, cold room
with some other losers.
More than two hundred people
iii rows of ten, all of them
blathering on and on,
or singing along
to the loud radios,
all the radios tuned
to the same crap station.
The sort of job where all the time
you live only
for the next break, the next chance
to stand outside smoking
in the freezing wind and rain.

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