While working my routine at Amazon
picking the same items I always have before
I was trans shipped to trans ship
filling me with anxiety
understanding unfamiliarity
nerve racked novice
sweat trickles down my face
soaking into my PPE.

Two man crew I'm meant to join
black guys wearing reflective vests
"I'm here to help, can you help me?"
blank stare foreground
empty workload background
perplexed aesthetic
French accented walls muffle communication
I form a reluctant alliance with repetition
yet my counterpart understands everything I say.

Their patience eases my troubled mind
when my capability falls short of my enthusiasm
hand gestures guide me free of frustration
I stay silent, only saying
"I'd talk more but I figure it'd be a hassle"
my learning ambassador understands
but his extra steps start a conversation
creating comforting small-talk acclimating aliens.

Sydna and Josue from Ivory Coast and Congo respectively
and respectful was all I wanted to be
yet I got the impression Josue was uncomfortable
after I had brought up gold, diamonds, and oil
but Sydna had taken control of the conversation
telling me all about the lottery he won to be here
I wondered what lottery's prize was living in Cincinnati
to work a factory job in Hebron.

We work bundling totes together
printing confusing and mysterious tags
reading ACY, CMH, SDF, JFK, or CSG
these bundles will be leaving CVG eventually
carried away on skids
to their indifferent destination
of the same capitalist company
just at another fulfillment center.

I guess I should be more grateful
to be in the poor nation of transportation
but I'm not—I'd rather be picking
where I can communicate with compatriots freely
but I'm far away from the south mod now
near the north side red tag area talking to strangers
it's just a shame
because there's plenty of material where I came from
but transitory shipment is where the work is.