Workaholic

The grease-stained tiles of the worker's floor
Beckons him, as he comes back once more
His eyes heavy and hair disheveled
His headset already settled

He grunts a “morning” to his coworker
As a customer lurks over her
A bell dings and his legs move
It doesn’t matter he disapproves

This is the life of a workaholic
Gone is all internal logic
He works himself to the bone
Hoping one day he will be known

A sweet smile plastered on his face
He recounts the menu at a slow pace
Hoping the customer will focus
And not yet again provoke us

Hands moving at impossible speeds
He understands the need to succeed
Blood drips from his chapped lips
When checks come he sees an eclipse

This is the life of a workaholic
Gone is all internal logic
He works himself to the bone
Hoping one day he will be known

His weary body groans and aches
He hopes that one day it doesn’t break
A customer screams at him again
He cries in his bed, as do all men

He stands on the greased stained tiles
A place he must have walked miles
With shaky and course fingers
He clocks in yet again but lingers

This is the life of a workaholic
Gone is all internal logic
He works himself to the bone
Hoping one day he will be known

All gone are his golden years
Late nights and a couple beers
All gone is the mystery of life
Every day filled with strife

Where he stands he had a thought
That this was all for nought
With a melancholy soul
He remembers a time he felt whole

This is the life of a workaholic
Gone is all internal logic
He works himself to the bone
Hoping one day he will be known

With heavy heart and little pride
He looked to the sky for a guide
In that moment he felt his eyes close
And it felt as if he flew to the cosmos

Unbeknownst to him he falls
On grease-stained tiles, his coworker calls
A loud siren and blinding lights
It would seem the man took a flight

This is the end of the life of a workaholic
Gone was all internal logic
He worked himself to the bone
Hoping one day he would be known

Koi is an immigrant, genderfluid poet whose work explores memory, displacement, labor, and survival. Drawing on lived experience, their poetry centers absence, endurance, and the search for belonging across bodies and borders.