Poem: The Stain on the Floor at Taco Bell

A poem that's (not really) about Taco Bell

It’s a gig economy, but currently it’s no one’s gig to clean the floor
at the Taco Bell. Maybe, soon, some former public servant can pull
themselves back up by the mop handle and clean that fucking shit

right up. That’s what a hardworking Kiwi would do. Cleaners, and
journalists, and ex public service workers are all just there to clean
up the shit. Let’s make it interchangeable because it’s going to be

intergenerational. It’s a gig economy — and all hardworking Kiwis,
smokers, and non-smokers, Māori and non-Māori, public servants
and now non public servants need to be there for the encore. You

know what’s got real stickability? That stain on the floor, just sitting
there soaking up everything and costing the taxpayer nothing. That’s
the stain of humanity right there.