Shift end

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Not to pretend anything is a thing
but I have to wait before the drive home
alone with my book and a found pen
september snow keeps me from my un-sad life
makes un-life more bearable as it gets louder
the shaker crawls under my teeth with shouts
and shrieks and awkward winks while I wait
for my eyes to clear another shot
at life the speakeasy quiet
an insult to the lonely customer beside me
asked me how I could write in my diary
unhooked vibe not super profound
the new hero on the edges
of this bar crowd

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One thought on “Shift end”

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