I was a pencil pusher.
I pushed pencils.
State-issue pencils.
On-contract pencils.
Generic No. 2 pencils.
Not even noble, yellow, Ticonderoga pencils.
I pushed them
37.5 hours each week
over miles of blue-lined
white legal pads
(formerly yellow
until the State determined that white
was more recyclable
per Directive #90576384-213).
My pencil pushings
were keyboarded
by support staff
and forwarded
to my supervisor
who edited them
beyond recognition
and returned them
reddened
to me for redrafting.
I also shuffled paper
touched base followed up called back
and even did lunch
though I mostly brown-bagged it
at my metal-and-pressed-wood-chip desk
counting my pennies
and the years till retirement
in my three-quarter high
walled cubicle.
