Monday, September 6, 2010

Vocation

by Sandra Beasley



For six months I dealt Baccarat in a casino.
For six months I played Brahms in a mall.
For six months I arranged museum dioramas;
my hands were too small for the Paleolithic
and when they reassigned me to lichens, I quit.
I type ninety-one words per minute, all of them
Help. Yes, I speak Dewey Decimal.
I speak Russian, Latin, a smattering of Tlingit.
I can balance seven dinner plates on my arm.
All I want to do is sit on a veranda while
a hard rain falls around me. I'll file your 1099s.
I'll make love to strangers of your choice.
I'll do whatever you want, as long as I can do it
on that veranda. If it calls you, it's your calling,
right? Once I asked a broker what he loved
about his job, and he said Making a killing.
Once I asked a serial killer what made him
get up in the morning, and he said The people.

4 comments:

  1. Ah the story of my professional life! Although I did stop short of serial killer.

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  2. Ha! This is great--thanks so much for sharing it (I'm not familiar with Sandra Beasley--clearly a mistake).

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  3. A bit chilling at the end, there. Happy week!

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)