Next Thing Wanted

Now that I'm busy,
I know what those men felt,
successful ones in Starbucks cafes
off the PCH in Laguna Beach,
rotund with years of rich meals,
over-worked, exhausted and lonely.

Now that life has fallen into place,
am I ready to return to Maslow's hierarchy:
food, shelter . . . love? Or at least
someone to have dinner with before
kissing goodbye until next weekend
because we work-sleep the in-betweens?
How curiously quick we find spaces of lack.

Unlike those men, though, I feel I am
levels behind, my high school salary
not enough for more than renting a room
in town with girls from Craigslist.

But it is enough
to eat out tonight and contemplate.

Maybe I will not find love. My boss
doesn't understand this, and so I decline his invitation.

Sun not yet set, I depart
after a dinner date with my adulting self.

Working for the Weekend

Mourn, it is almost over, sky
threatening downpour; let's hope
it will hold while we rush to mash
morsels of food or freedom
down any hole, terrified of what
comes 11 hours from now: work.
It is not that our jobs are dreadful,
just long and all-consuming,
hamster sweating on spinning ramp,
8.5 hours in concrete cubicle,
then soporific meal, shower.
Can unconsciousness be enjoyed?
Trembling with neuroses, you'd
think work was a wet warlock
of monsters ready to devour; yet,
we like our work, sometimes.

I cry for last year's unemployment,
a sabbatical of sorts, fresh
on mind like raw meat on rack,
but I would not go back, because
alternative to work slave
is the trophy whore I was before.

Sage Schilling is a professor who teaches composition at Oklahoma State University. Most recently she has traveled through Europe for 8 months to write poetry about self-exile and seeking love vs. freedom. She holds an M.A. in Creative Writing from the University of Cincinnati and a Ph.D. in Women's Studies and Religion from Claremont Graduate University. Schilling writes regularly for feminismandreligion.com (under Lache S.) and has poetry published in in Crossways, DodgingtheRain, SurVision, Pussy Magic, and the anthology Teachers Who Write (Waterford Teachers' Centre). Find her on Twitter and Instagram @seagreengoddess