to talk to me
outside in the smoking area
where he could light up
with studied nonchalance
and accuse me of placing
VOTE YES TO UNION
stickers on damn near
every surface in
the factory.
I offered plausible denials,
musing aloud why anyone
would want a union
to come in and give
the workers job stability
competitive wages and
retirement packages.
he stood there, short
like Napoleon, like a
thousand other petty
backyard dictators
and I stood there,
slouch-shouldered
like my father,
like a billion other
paycheck peons.
by Karl Koweski
