Monday, December 27, 2010

The Dishwasher Who Taught Me about Life By Jasen Sousa

The Dishwasher Who Taught Me about Life


Whenever I see a plate
sitting in a sink
begging to be washed,
I think of him.

His large mustache,
chubby cheeks,
white checkered pants,
and black apron.
His name was Wilfredo.

It was my first job.
I was a teenager,
he was in his 40’s.
8-hour shifts
and 5-day weeks
were rare.
The overwhelming crowds
at lunch and dinner we came to master
and laugh about.

During 15-minute breaks
I sat with him on the loading dock
on bread crates tipped upside down
while he continued to fill
an old tomato can with butts.

He taught me about the girl
tattooed on his arm and the son
he got to see a few times a month.
He taught me to always be on time
and how not to call in sick
because of a stuffy nose, headache,
shriveled hands and sore back,
because those were symptoms people like us
had to live and work with everyday.




Taken From
Humming Eternity By Jasen Sousa (Written During Emerson College Era)
©

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