elevator operator

oliver paul

twenty years old

thick head of hair

worries he's going bald

wakes up at quarter past nine

fare evades his way down the 96 tram line

breakfast on the run again

he's well aware

he's dropping soy linseed vegemite crumbs everywhere

feeling sick at the sight of his computer

he dodges his way through the swanston commuters

rips off his tie

hands it to a homeless man

sleeping in the corner of a metro bus stand and he screams

i'm not going to work today