Prompt: Write a sonnet!
What did I do to earn this nasty fate?
I’m working at the bookstore on the weekend,
Organizing magazines that hate
To stay put on the shelves. I’ll have to spend
The evening setting chaos into order,
Laboring like Sisyphus in vain –
There’s always one more porno in the corner
The boulder’s rolling down the hill again.
This is my punishment for asking questions
When my lot in life is just to nod
My head, absorb another of life’s lessons,
Accept my place beneath the boss, my god
For these eight hours of my life. As long
as I am poor I’ll have to play along.