A coworker sneezes at a Target store during a snowstorm, and another worker's response says a lot: she says "salud," then warns the sneezer to stay healthy, because getting sick means missing work, and missing work means not paying for heat. The speaker listens to this kind of everyday survival talk, including the claim that things could be worse, since this isn't Walmart.
The mood is tired and quietly angry. The speaker doesn't shout. Instead, the poem argues that when people can't afford to protest, their bodies do it for them through sneezes, seizures, even heart attacks, which the speaker calls "a violent demonstration." The state only seems to step in for small rules, like a lunch break or a travel ban that closed the store once. The ending is blunt and a little dark: if the government won't protect workers, their bodies will break down and say what they can't.