Dick Is Short for Richard

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In my last days at Kmart
my assistant manager's
name was Richard

I recall the sickening cologne
he must have slathered on, beneath
his embroidered Kmart polo

At age 19, It's unnerving to see
a man driven to a frenzy over
Rubbermaid tubs and patio furniture

And at the receiving end of his
supervisory rancor, it wasn't hard
to find him completely contemptuous

Today, imagining the store, I envision
stockrooms lonely with flickering lights
and Bounty rolls standing

overstocked and towering,
casting long shadows on Richard,
full of sighs and grimaces down below