The Job Seeker, Lily Murphy

For those of you who think we skipped last week's Poem, we didn't, we just reposted a very seasonal piece from one of our old issues. It probably looked like we skipped over Christmas though, and we apologize.

Here's another somewhat seasonal piece. It reminds us Editrices of what we're going to have to do in the New Year, as we're both graduating and cannot keep sponging off our progenitors any longer, or else they may take actions similar to that of this disgruntled mother. We wouldn't go buy glasses of beer, though. No, we would buy novels, paint brushes, and sushi. Also thrift store clothes and vinyl records.

Thanks for another great year, Toucan fans! Let's hope 2012 is bright and prosperous (and that your Editrices both end up with six-figure salaries. Somehow.)

The Job Seeker

by Lily Murphy

A desperate thought slams into my brain, what if it rains today like it rained yesterday. I have no umbrella since I broke my old one over a paper boys head last week but I must push on nevertheless and venture out into society in order to find employment.

I must do this because mother has given me an ultimatum, she wants me with a job by Christmas or I will find myself homeless. It is an outlandish notion that I must get an occupation but I must suffice or find myself without a dwelling come the festive season. Mother says she doesn’t want any son of hers hanging around the house like a vagrant with a university degree in his back pocket, so urged on by an ardent mother I must take leave of my membership of the union of work shy elements.

My luck so far has seen a bright sky yet as I amble down the street I fear the clouds up above are making their way from the west and usually it is the clouds from the west which carry the most rain and I have no umbrella. I will not take the chance so I will make my way into this public house here and with the transport and lunch money mother gave me I will exchange it for a few glasses of beer while lamenting my broken umbrella, just like I did yesterday and the day before that.