Hard Hat

I am 29 wearing
My hard hat and
Work boots smashing
Plaster off the walls of
The old Soldiers and Sailors
Pool hall on 6th street as the cold wind whistles through the empty building clearing the dust teaching
College history at night and
Afterwards in my sleep I
Lift my arm and bring
It down hard on the
Mattress alarming
My wife from her
Sleep causing
Her to urge
Me to find
An inside
Job
As it is
November
And winter is coming.
At start and end of day I ride
To and from the worksite
In the big truck sneering
At all the office cubers,
Working alongside
My old friend who
Knows I will soon
Leave for indoor
Research but
Who offers
Me my
Refuge
From the
World of academe
So I can feel one
Last time the
Joy of working
With my
Hands
And not my
Head.