Poem: Diegesis

it’s a lucky person that gets to go to work, that has a job and is paid money into an account at the end of each week or month or whatever the pay-cycle is; a lucky

person indeed. After the grunt-work for the day is done the rest is gravy, you take your fancy clothes off, put your trackies (back) on and you pretend to read the

magazines in the piles, or y…