the job ads in Pomes and Epigrams

With the audacity of a sparrow
hopping past my threshold to look for bits of croissant,
I quit my job and look for something better.
Sizing each job up as though all that was needed
was my will. Could I be a park ranger?
No, for the thousandth time you cannot.
You have never picked up a chainsaw.
Development manager?
Senior Planner?
More of the same, really.
Strategy and Culture Liaison?
What even is that?
Too junior, too boring, too underpaid, too irrelevant
As I peck at the last crumb and look up.
Oh shit. Where’s the door I came through?
I have another deadline, this won’t do at all.
I can’t stay here. Is that an opening?
I see blue sky, I can get there quickly…
THUNK.