Enoch Fannin

Euphemisims, like "we do it all for you"
never did as much for me as watching
paul load up a hamburger with toothpicks
every time he spotted the off-duty manager
trying to merge inconspicously with the crowd
fiddling with his quality-spot-check pad and pen

Cowering, with much trepidation,
behind the sweaty grill
I could hear Paul snickering as the counter clerks
distributed our products among the masses
lucky for me he never hit his mark
Paul was their right hand man
it would have been the axe for me
except for the poor souls with to go orders
who never complained about toothpicks

They even gave Pauls a raise
for cutting down on food wastage
if only they knew that he once used
nothing but scraped buns
from the gray plastic trash can
under the greasy grill for an entire
day, enough said Paul made them famous
by winning the international grill cook
speed cometition, and me
I got fired for forgetting to suggest-sell
their new chicken wings rated 3 to 1
over Colonel Sanders

I was sittin' on the couch, smokin' an' drinkin' a beer
My feet propped up, smoke fillin' the air
When the people on the tube all started to cheer
That one there's got the number, he's a millionaire
No more workin' boat came in
No more hard times, easy street

I grabbed my boots, ran to the market
Bought twenty-seven tickets, just for a start
Ran back home, jumpd in my seat
Man said sorry--you just got beat
Try next week, boat'll come in
Might be slow, but you're bound to win

I sold my car, bought three hundred tickets
Won fourteen dollars and eighty-two cents
Bought me a gun, cost twelve-ninety nine
Found that man, said where's that boat of mine?
Man said sorry, it sunk
Triangle got it

Well I told him we can't argue with fate
So here's your ticket to the pearly gates
My boat never came in, and yours just left
He said might as well go, could use the rest
Wouldn't let him in
Had a bad ticket

Is not the three-piece vest rather
the philosopher of the ditch
digger work shoes worn flannel
shirt stained with coffe hot
black strong wake me up

And no cellular phones in this crowd
gabbing stocks up the freeway rather
artists of roof shingles hot sun
will bake you fast later when you
are only yawning in that plush
bathrobe and delivery is far
away but no, delivery is here
now with trucks and doughnuts

Setting you up and the poets
of the assembly lines beating out
their brains will take their first ten
minute break exactly the same
time as you start warming
up your car