He had been christened Roger
everyone called him Mad Dog
not a derivative of his personality
but favourite drink
he was fond of it.
A large man
tall and solid
six foot three and 250 pounds.
He was the boss my first winter
affable . . . most of the time
with good taste in music
and not so good in humour.
Still, he had one endearing trick.
When something went against us
and
much did in food service
he would leap onto a table
a griddle
a chair
or in the absence of a platform
stand where he was
bend at the waist
hands slid down the back of his legs
head pitched into his knees
“ come on, “ he’d roar, like a conjugating lion
“ FUCK ME.”
It was hilarious – it wouldn’t have been if he’d been white.
For the back story click Backstage
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Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry 