ysabetwordsmith (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ysabetwordsmith) wrote2025-07-06 10:05 pm
ysabetwordsmith) wrote2025-07-06 10:05 pm
Poem: "Always Surprised by Consequences"
This poem came out of the July 1, 2025 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by a prompt from rix_scaedu. It also fills "The Harder They Fall" square in my 7-1-25 card for the Western Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by janetmiles. It belongs to the series Polychrome Heroics.
"Always Surprised by Consequences"
[Tuesday, July 1, 2014]
Jamir Jackson was not
having a good day today.
The custodial closet
was short on supplies,
so now he would have
to explain that to his boss
and figure out some way
of compensating for it.
Dealing with Mr. Ford
was always dicey, but
there was no alternative.
Jamir tapped on the door
of the office and said,
"Excuse me, sir, but
we're low on cleaners.
Which of the rooms have
the highest priorities?"
Mr. Ford glared at him.
"Clean them all," he said.
"You're not getting out of
work with that excuse."
"Sir, the inventory
is readily available,"
said Jamir. "We are
running low on bleach,
vinegar, ammonia,
and rubbing alcohol."
"So?" said Mr. Ford.
"Just mix them together."
"OSHA data sheets say
that would be hazardous,"
Jamir replied. "We need --"
"You need to get your ass
to work if you want to keep
your job!" Mr. Ford snapped.
"I told you to mix the cleaners
you have in order to make
enough, so go do that."
Jamir sighed. "Yes, sir."
He went back to the closet
where his coworkers waited.
"Which rooms have priority?"
asked Iwona Bukowski.
"All of them," said Jamir.
"He ordered me to mix
the supplies we have left."
"Isn't that dangerous?"
asked Pablo Casales.
"Yeah, but he's the boss,"
said Jamir. "So here's
what we're gonna do ..."
He laid out the plan. They
gathered the supplies and
a large bucket apiece.
Each of them dumped
bleach into a bucket
of some other cleaner.
Then they hustled toward
the service stairs ahead
of the vapors that already
began to spill into the air.
Once safely outside, they
turned around to watch.
Moments later, people
began to stream out of
the building, coughing
and wiping their eyes.
Mr. Ford doubled over
and threw up his lunch.
"Men of thoughtless actions
are always surprised by
consequences," said Iwona.
Jamir laughed. "Yeah, he
sure didn't see that coming."
Sirens announced a firetruck,
and soon a HAZMAT crew
hurried into the building.
The OSHA-fireman headed
right for Jimar's team instead.
"Did you see what happened?"
Jamir explained all about
the shortage of supplies,
telling his boss about that,
and Mr. Ford's orders.
"Did you know what
would happen if you
mixed the chemicals?"
said the OSHA-fireman.
"Yes, but I had to do it if
I wanted to keep my job,"
said Jamir. "I did warn him."
"Well then, the violation is on
his head," said the OSHA-fireman.
"You know how it goes," said Pablo.
"The bigger they are, the harder they fall."
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its notes appear separately.
rix_scaedu. It also fills "The Harder They Fall" square in my 7-1-25 card for the Western Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by janetmiles. It belongs to the series Polychrome Heroics."Always Surprised by Consequences"
[Tuesday, July 1, 2014]
Jamir Jackson was not
having a good day today.
The custodial closet
was short on supplies,
so now he would have
to explain that to his boss
and figure out some way
of compensating for it.
Dealing with Mr. Ford
was always dicey, but
there was no alternative.
Jamir tapped on the door
of the office and said,
"Excuse me, sir, but
we're low on cleaners.
Which of the rooms have
the highest priorities?"
Mr. Ford glared at him.
"Clean them all," he said.
"You're not getting out of
work with that excuse."
"Sir, the inventory
is readily available,"
said Jamir. "We are
running low on bleach,
vinegar, ammonia,
and rubbing alcohol."
"So?" said Mr. Ford.
"Just mix them together."
"OSHA data sheets say
that would be hazardous,"
Jamir replied. "We need --"
"You need to get your ass
to work if you want to keep
your job!" Mr. Ford snapped.
"I told you to mix the cleaners
you have in order to make
enough, so go do that."
Jamir sighed. "Yes, sir."
He went back to the closet
where his coworkers waited.
"Which rooms have priority?"
asked Iwona Bukowski.
"All of them," said Jamir.
"He ordered me to mix
the supplies we have left."
"Isn't that dangerous?"
asked Pablo Casales.
"Yeah, but he's the boss,"
said Jamir. "So here's
what we're gonna do ..."
He laid out the plan. They
gathered the supplies and
a large bucket apiece.
Each of them dumped
bleach into a bucket
of some other cleaner.
Then they hustled toward
the service stairs ahead
of the vapors that already
began to spill into the air.
Once safely outside, they
turned around to watch.
Moments later, people
began to stream out of
the building, coughing
and wiping their eyes.
Mr. Ford doubled over
and threw up his lunch.
"Men of thoughtless actions
are always surprised by
consequences," said Iwona.
Jamir laughed. "Yeah, he
sure didn't see that coming."
Sirens announced a firetruck,
and soon a HAZMAT crew
hurried into the building.
The OSHA-fireman headed
right for Jimar's team instead.
"Did you see what happened?"
Jamir explained all about
the shortage of supplies,
telling his boss about that,
and Mr. Ford's orders.
"Did you know what
would happen if you
mixed the chemicals?"
said the OSHA-fireman.
"Yes, but I had to do it if
I wanted to keep my job,"
said Jamir. "I did warn him."
"Well then, the violation is on
his head," said the OSHA-fireman.
"You know how it goes," said Pablo.
"The bigger they are, the harder they fall."
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its notes appear separately.