Ode to the Proletariat

Faded wallpaper

with yellow roses

and a water stain

in the left corner of the living room

Worn napping

on the plaid couch,

Earth tones, of course

Toilets that run

’til you jiggle the handle

and windows fortified with plastic

to keep out the draft

Pink foam curlers

peeking out from under

a bright floral scarf

as she pushes the cart

full of Mac ‘n Cheese

and Spam

and Shake ‘n Bake

through the grocery store

on a Saturday morning

wearing sensible shoes

Children

at the bus stop

with Wonder Bread wrappers

covering their feet

to keep them dry

in last year’s boots

Soap Operas

blaring from the television

as she irons his work shirts

worn at the collar

and talks on the phone

about the latest gossip

while the leftovers

warm in the oven

and the kids argue

as they set the mismatched silverware

alongside chipped plates

and jelly jar glasses

and Gramma rocks slowly

in her creaky chair

patiently mending a sock

with gnarled fingers

Pieces of four engines

scattered about

as he works on the car

with two flat tires

and listens to the Yankee game

on the local station

and drinks his Pabst

and curses his broken tool

A dog-eared family Bible

on the bookshelf

among the Reader’s Digest Condensed Books

and an ancient set of World Book encyclopedias

The working class thrives