Job Description: a poem by Alysse Aallyn

JOB DESCRIPTION

Do nothing.
Be no one
Scrub the spaces in between
Your life will be measured
In others spare time.

I say those have failed to pass
Who failed to wash
The scuts of infants
Failed to harmonize the
Broken breathing.

Who made garbage of the children’s eyes?
Newborns drip a cream more holy
Than the sacraments. They are born
Little calliopes
Singing whalesong.

Incendiary at one
Stargazer at three.
Who failed to pass?
I pass on eternity and
A taste for taking time

Coaxing twisted trackways
Into light; slow the world by hand
If necessary; slow enough
For the children
To get on.