sandwiched between the displays
of lottery and the cigarette pack
lined back wall, she scurries
between smokes and the register
lonely, jobless men jibber- jabber- gossip
saying shit
no one has time to hear or wants to hear
and she has to let them hang out
there drinking their coffee playing
their lottery saying whatever they want
to say because the customer is always
right and she needs this job because
the owners keep dangling
some kind of promotion
that she will never get
she looks at me with dark, tired eyes
she wishes they would all go away
and give her five minutes to breathe
It seems like I could be her salvation
wave a magic wand and buy a winning lottery
ticket then pass a few grand
to the girl who sold it to me
and I would too
because she knows there is nothing else for her
except for maybe that promotion
someday
I’m not any better than you
just a different set of circumstances
in the end, honey, we burn down to the butt
and turn to ash.
***
Hey all, a day late but oh well. Here is poem 30, which completes the NaPoWriMo challenge. I struggled. I had stuff come up. I had school work. I was blank, my brain was mush but some how I created some good poems. Sure, I created some shitty ones too. But I suppose one of the best things about writing in general is that you get a re-do (or fifty) in most cases. I am still thinking about collecting some of the best poems on this blog and making a book, what do you think?
Till next time...
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