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Personal Note:

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Poem

in her sleep she works
rustling in her lab coat & shaking tired in her
booties,
so as to not get the floor dirty---
the medical supplies she works on throughout the night shift
will one day help another stay alive 
when confronted with calamity &
no doubt, when she began working,
that brought some kind of comfort to the overall
bearing down of the hours &
the stressors that come with a paycheck
which disappears as quickly as it lands in her
hands.

the sleepworker knows not a moment of rest---
you know her because she serves you
she makes the things that help your kids in college
she stands behind the scenes &
dies behind the scenes,
a ghost amongst ghosts whose soul purpose on this earth seems to be
work---
this work brings no personal gratification, 
for it only reveals her use to a world still very much ruled by
men---
she will most likely outlive the men she knows, 
yet she earns ¾’s of what a man makes & 
she works twice as much unpaid time as a man does,
yet she makes up 70% of the 1.3 billion people living in poverty in the
world.

nodding off, 
then snapping her head back as quick as she can between
nods,
her eyes grow blurry but the machine that she works on stays rumbling in
repetition---
with one slight wrong move,
she can lose a finger,
but her habit is set & 
she risks it all as she 
sleepworks the early morning away,
because this world has no meaning for her
except that the next shift will come 
soon.

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