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Poem |
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Signing On |
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My appoinment time was Monday between
the hours of one and two. A ritual had been concocted by my advisors
at the “Bru.” Peruse the board marked “Sits Vac” for you never know
your luck. Spend the day there, browsing, watch the claimants run
amok. |
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The counter clerks are nervous, they are
the front line troops you see, continually facing skirmishes with
the unemployed, like me. “Book ‘em into Job Club” advised the Generals
in the rear. “There’s still nay chance o’ getting work, but it will
get them out of here.” |
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And so I met my new ‘advisor’ he asked
for my C.V. I looked the young fellow in the eye, “Nay lad, not from
me!” “But everybody has one,” this smart young lad did state. “It’s
a history of your working life, I’ll write whilst you dictate.” |
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He sat there poised, with pen in hand
I shook my head and stated, “I’ve had but one job in my life, my ambitions
are now sated. From ‘49 to ‘93 is the period of which we speak and
with over forty years in industry I retired at my peak.” |
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“My pension’s safe from predators, all
my credits are up to date, we won’t bother with a C.V. son, you are
several decades late! I am now approaching sixty with no need to go
to “Bru” the only thing I’m going to miss, is that appoinment ‘tween
one and two!” |
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Signing
On (Audio) |
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