Despedida, mi trabajo!

Adios, my lifelong pal — the rat race I have left

now that from my paying job I have become bereft.

The levers that I pulled and the conveyor belt I tended

are on their way to Mexico (instructions are appended).

I hope whoever gets my job down there in Guadalupe

will join the union so they can constantly accrue pay.

They say there’s money for retraining — much good may it do

to a guy who’s sixty and is slow as Elmer’s Glue.

I’ve had my run of good times; now the Rust Belt welcomes me

into some darkened tavern where I drink and watch TV.

I guess I need a hobby so on boredom I won’t champ;

anybody know what club I join to be a tramp?

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I don't want to be loved; I just want to be trending.