The Way to Work

I see it, the game face you wear,

in the car, on the train, on the walk

into work, another eight hours,

the factory, the office the job.

I wore it once, too. Had to, I thought—

the stress begets my success.

Too little time for all I know and love

Too much effort to make all ends meet

Pursed lips, the far-off gaze

Limited eye contact

Even (especially) in an 8-by-8 lift

This is the way to work. There.

It need not be that way

For most, the game is not on the line

The patient isn’t about to die

But to believe that and change . . .

It takes courage to buck culture.