In “Career,” the speaker describes an entire working life in the flattest possible terms: getting into a car, joining a long, noisy line of traffic between two cities, parking, entering a building, sitting in a room, and staring at a computer monitor or talking for years. The two opposing lines of cars mirror each other, as if everyone is simply trading places. Occasionally he looks out the window to check on his car. After more years, he walks out and gets back in. There is no promotion, no conflict, no achievement—just movement repeated until it becomes meaningless. The tone is deliberately numb and mechanical, which is what makes it funny and a little sad. The speaker seems to feel like a small, interchangeable part in a huge routine, no more important than the car. The mood is understated and bleak: a career shrinks to a loop of driving and sitting, and the years pass without leaving any mark.
Career — Summary
I got into my car. I drove it so it joined other cars in a long,
noisy line between one city and another. To my left
another long line of cars moved from the city
to which my line was going to the city I'd
just left. When my car and I arrived, I stopped
it and left it amongst other stopped cars. I
entered a building. On one of its upper floors,
I entered a room. I sat down. For several years
I looked at a computer monitor or talked. Sometimes
I looked out a window and down to see my car.
After more years, I left the building. I got into my car.