Labor Of Love - Dustin Vado
Poem for my Dad, Christmas 2016
This place is a mess.
Shit.
Why is work so much work?
Disheartened groan drags a chair
miserably to vague position.
Help arrives and the groan now feeds
the chorus.
Two lax engines sing the chores,
the most welcoming harmony to the sole proprietor.
"Sharks are on"
A hopeful mumble to break time.
"Down two nuthin"
Shit.
Last chair moans free another mess.
From a long sigh sounds
the bark of a foreman
whose bite is more of a coo tenderizing
lost souls into true love.
More help arrives and now the chorus is an orchestra.
They leak smiles
and can't help but infect the foreman.
This virus can't be cured!
Cures rid sickness,
but we are bloated with groans!
Every groan breeds a company of new mess,
A pleasure to host but a bitch to serve.
A labor of love.
Shit.
This place is a mess.
Shit.
Why is work so much work?
Disheartened groan drags a chair
miserably to vague position.
Help arrives and the groan now feeds
the chorus.
Two lax engines sing the chores,
the most welcoming harmony to the sole proprietor.
"Sharks are on"
A hopeful mumble to break time.
"Down two nuthin"
Shit.
Last chair moans free another mess.
From a long sigh sounds
the bark of a foreman
whose bite is more of a coo tenderizing
lost souls into true love.
More help arrives and now the chorus is an orchestra.
They leak smiles
and can't help but infect the foreman.
This virus can't be cured!
Cures rid sickness,
but we are bloated with groans!
Every groan breeds a company of new mess,
A pleasure to host but a bitch to serve.
A labor of love.
Shit.