Five turns, the clock--
it burns my eyelids
shut--I want it shot!
this phantom that reeks of rot.
Darkness in glimpses;
fleeting, this silence;
emptying my tongue
of appetite for words.
Hues fade, while world
I wade--through eyes
and flesh bruised and abused--
I smile and reflect,
"It's all been swimmingly,
so far."
Disembodied voices
in a plastic box;
the notes blast through my eardrums,
naked noise--a fatal choice--
but a conundrum inescapable,
as I am as much incapable
of elusive dream.
Morning, sweet Morning,
I hope you never come for me.
Author notes
For all the people who work the terrible dead hours of the graveyard shift. May we rediscover peace with the sun we have all but alienated. Eventually...in time...I hope...
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
oh God...you nailed this
first, I love what you did with the title...oh yeah it certainly feels that way...Graveyard Shi*t...
anyone who's working on this shift...will kiss you in the ass
Disembodied voices
in a plastic box;
the notes blast through my eardrums,
naked noise--a fatal choice--
but a conundrum inescapable,
as I am as much incapable
of elusive dream.
I like this part
and this one who said in your author's note
May we rediscover peace with the sun we have all but alienated.
I got nothing much to say anymore but Wow galing!
-
wow-brilliant. i love this one. great job. its hell to work the graveyard shift, but hang in there. and if you just seriously can't take it anymore, then ask someone to trade shifts with you so you can work earlier different shift.
-
-
Thanks very much for your words of support, Glitter-and-Pills. I seriously hope I can hang on to my job...
-
Adding your comment:
