to ask the owner for a raise,
this poor girl rich in talent,
but little else, graveling before
the feet of this financial god
who we all need yet dislike,
not because he’s rich,
but because he’s cheap,
each new girl crawling
into his office to beg for a wage
with which they can live,
and each told, no, though with her,
it is hard to tell, he, godlike,
granting her more if she will do more,
rather than telling her,
as he had the last supplicant,
if she wants more money,
she should get another job.
Is that what all this flirting
with him is about,
wearing him down with admiration,
seeking like the drip of water
to break through his stone heart
with offers he can’t possibly resist,
while our former temporary boss
hears all I heard about her poverty
and her need to earn something
that will keep her fed,
choosing this path of the most resistance
to win the heart of a man
whose
store heart resists her – almost.
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