Graveyard Shift Lament

An angel an evening.
To my counter they come.
I take their money. 
They take my time.
The genuine cost lying somewhere between.

An angel an evening. 
An art museum.
A zoo. 
To look but not touch .
To touch but lack feeling.

An angel an evening.
The rat race slowed for sodas and smokes.
A corner of the world a new nightly.

An angel an evening.
Ever changing drama. 
Ever changing insight.
All in the guise of minimum wage.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2006

Poem

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