the final catch-up

there is nowhere to hide my poetry at work so i will stash it here                                  when it flashes between my fingers
because gone are our days of notes in class and i would like to fold you                  
poems across a desk
when we are all doing things we’d rather not
for money
because five o’clock makes me scream and my coworkers have asked me
quietly to please stop screaming at my desk
but just think, i spend eight hours a day writing                                                   
history that wasn’t and money that isn’t,
eight solid hours without a poem,
so this is a secret
to keep us from screaming.