Tag Archives: night shift

2022, homeless, Louisville Stories, Ohio River Valley Literature, poetry, river life

A Monday night on the wharf

Lord, hear our prayers –

afraid of the dark and sometimes brandishing a knife she begs the night lights for cigarettes and something cool to drink she primps as she scurries away, pulling out clumps of hair she will search for later to put up in a bun she’s having a rough night she’s crying for help but no one sees our demons but us and she chooses to speak to hers and when the homeless man on a bicycle stops to inquire all he can do is yell WHAT ARE YOU RUNNING FROM and the cops can’t take her to the hospital involuntarily and even if they did the ER would kick her in 3 or 4 hours not quite sunrise and she would have to contend with the darkness again begging night lights for salvation and a smoke and maybe a cup of water

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2022, Autumn, Ohio River Valley Literature, poetry, river life, waterfront

swing shift strategies

over night shift there’s
something soothing about
the FM radio dial

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2022, Ohio River Valley Literature, poetry, river life, summer, the no-scape, work

the unscripted evolutionary track of night shift river critters

these nights a man might grow
back into a bird into a lizard
some feathered gator
razor teeth sitting waiting
that 2nd eyelid closed
at rest aware

it creeps up sudden-like
doesn’t skitter
no not some wharf possum
more like plodding focused

there is intent oh yes intent
the silent genes kick in
latent DNA manifests

you don’t notice
you’re not a man
you don’t notice
you’re resting
and your eyes are open
like a dog a hawk
a river lizard

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