Jobseeker

On a June morning, sodden
and weepy, I came back
to the broo:

its accordion of tones
and teeth, the wild eyes
of hirsute residents.

Like a marsupial conceals
a cub, I cradle a book
of Armitage’s poems,

weaving through words
as electronic Job Points
gesture like madmen –

a few clicks and they know exactly how much
trouble you’re in.
Most of us pretend
we don’t have to be
here, delivering a haughty hymn
of honeyed triumphs.


Midway through the poem
‘Man with a Golf Ball Heart’,
I’m accosted by Neil: his thinning

silver hair and evocative paunch
cast a hostile shadow.
Come right this way, Mr Pedersen.

We meet with a collective pinkness,
his tongue a ticking indicator,
my words skidding tyres


racing through every ailment
neither of us have. The day
had been a diagram, until:

Is there anyone under your care
or who cares for you, on a full-time
or part-time basis?


At this point I crumble.
Neil has broken me.
Would I be here if there was?


‘Jobseeker’ from Play With Me © Michael Pedersen. Reprinted by kind permission of the author and Polygon, 2013.
Listen to Michael Pedersen discuss and read his work on the Scottish Poetry Library podcast.
Watch Michael Pedersen perform his work.