explaining to my boss
after two weeks at emails
that I think I’m not suited
to the job—not if I’m honest
with him and myself.

rising like an eagle
in front of his desk.
like a falcon. a flap-up
of pigeons. sky burning. words

cannon-blasts. I’ve cost
us both money. been late
very often. hungover. uninterested
in canteen-room gossip. no—
I agree—I am not
what they’re looking for.

go to hell, the flags signal,
go bloody to hell.
eyes flash and blood
is rich wine in gold goblets.

I get up, we shake hands
and I leave quite politely.
later he gives me a reference.