Boomer brindles inside our thoughts
such a lovely bull-terrier,
licks Jenni's face, she smiles as she talks
about his toys, the nuisance of having to walk him -
damned night shifts/shits the dog.
Sam giggles about dirty t-shirts
bad attitude and fingers- life smells bad sometimes.
We, the proverbial three
think of absurd things:
at four in the morning, blood sugar drops
crazy thoughts happen
Sam chair dances
and mumbles about slags and fishnets
no diet coke for months, you fuckers!
Good job all the clients are sleeping
detox days/nights roll into one.
Jenni doesn't fart, it's not night-belly bloated,
was only the chair moving, honestly
IT WAS!
the price of innocence and squeaky furniture.
soon Thursday creeps in
meds are checked
notes written
body count all in
the hum of air conditioning wrecks our heads
we rack up the scores
3 down - 1 to go
damned Night Shifts/shit.

sure, sure. 






s are in my head .....

27 old applause
