Coal Miners of Science Fiction
The greatest of workplace hazards: Matched beat of metronome rush & quarrelsome con-men in pleated war pants Yellow rebel dancers and would-be geezers balding with children & always with stamping feet. Then there is team-building by method acting & South American gospel — Either may assuage the ivy league laborers on line with lighters & rain. Not one minds the busted barricade, the lusted-for university gelding cuz the Atlantic is just one artery between two, hazing a spate of tormented lackeys when chocolate vanilla swirl is refused at lunchtime. And of course there is the issue of hot potato in a mitted toaster oven, the aging democrat who commits debit card fraud for costume jewelry half-off, for a rise in temperature, for the former daughter of wolves. His team snags her a discount ticket to India. His boys alone are the ownership society of ripped vinyl booths in U-hauls, of seven orphan children mute and grabbing at nothing with scabby paws and bowing deeply in loose-skin suits like this.
