Ron Kolm

Hand Jobs, a poem by Ron Kolm

Posted on by Ron Kolm Posted in Audio, Daily, Poetry, Ron Kolm, Writing | Comments Off on Hand Jobs, a poem by Ron Kolm

Hand Jobs

It’s my first day on the job —
A factory making steel drums.
“You’ll be rubbing acid on new
Welds to seal them,” the foreman
Tells me. “Here’s some rubber
Gloves,” he says, throwing me a pair.
“You don’t want to get that shit
On your skin.” I put them on
And feel air on my hands.
The tips of the gloves are
Worn away, and I wiggle
My fingers for his benefit.
“Sorry, dude, it’s all we got,”
He says, as I give them back
And head out to the parking lot
Get into my truck and smash
The dashboard with my fist.
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PEOPs Reading at the Bowery Poetry Club NYC by Ron Kolm

Posted on by Ron Kolm Posted in Daily, Ephemera, Events, Ron Kolm | Comments Off on PEOPs Reading at the Bowery Poetry Club NYC by Ron Kolm


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