Freezer

Minus 25 celsius
Warehouse stacked with boxes
Of frozen
Potato chips, mash, peas, ice cream
Bread, muffins, beans, mince, chicken —
And God-knows-what-else

From 7 till 3:30
I lift, drop, stack —
And keep moving

I’m lucky I guess —
Not twelve hours a day
Not five days a week

My toes go numb
Outside — twenty minutes
Every couple hours —
They thaw a bit

My hands and fingers
Go numb, then thaw

I keep moving
Bending, lifting, twisting —
Dropping boxes

Or I freeze entirely —
Like turkey, lamb —
Just more meat
To be moved