Try harder, Picasso.

It was only a matter of time
before one of them noticed
but I didn't see it coming today
as I stood on that ladder
or from the guy who doesn't even
remember where his tools are without me
or know his kids' birthdays.

I was reaching up with my left arm
to glue a fitting to a pipe
when his eyes narrowed to focus
before firing away with words
I couldn't bat down, even from
my temporary elevation.

"Hey, what's that line on your arm?
I never saw that before.
Did your tattoo guy forget to color that
part in? You should go back and
get it fixed."

Sometimes I fabricate a work-related accident
tale for those I don't know or like well enough
or those I know well enough not to like
but since he already had his own assumption
about its origin and probably wouldn't believe mine
I opted not to bother with that farce.

I finished the task I was performing
and tried not to stumble over
words I knew would trip up my tongue
as I avoided eye contact with a man
I'd always had a witty comeback for until now.

"Yeah, sometimes they don't heal right...
...tattoos, I mean. It doesn't bother me
anymore, though."

His phone rang just in time to save me
from further explanation. It was our foreman
telling us to go perform some random task
somewhere else on the job. We packed
the necessary tools and headed off
lighting cigarettes for the walk.

My partner didn't bring it up again
after we switched gears
and came back to where we were originally working.
I took that as his way of saying he knew
since he's not one to let things go
in conversation, especially when
he thinks he knows he's right.

That's all I need to spread through the Union:
"Shakespeare's crazy, and not just 'cause
he sits under a tree and reads while we eat lunch."

But for now I roll with them as they come
and sit here drinking cocktails in my room
in a house with a half-finished bathroom upstairs
and a boiler in the basement I've never bothered
to look at because although this is what I do
for a living now, it's not who I am
and thankfully who I am
is not who I was
when that stupid kid still thought
that anyone would notice
and be compelled enough
to try to change his condition
not yet understanding that only he could.