Michael Sloane

American Night Shift Philippine Style - Poem by Michael Sloane

Another night on the night shift train to morning!
Bright white light bulb, my sunshine.
Dinner is served
Computer flickers on. Emails, chat-rooms,
and websites come to life
The globe comes alive pulsating from third to first world

Who’s here who’s there?
Here windows open dogs barking, loud voices of laughter and my nightly bar next door churning out the beat of a sweaty jam. Girls made up, smoky bar, men watching. Men and women plying their business
There drinking coffee, reading the newspaper getting the kids off to school
Another shooting

Thinking night time living day time
Thoughts of the club, kissing anticipation, hugging sweating, dancing grinding, smell of drink, smoke escaping from my nostrils from the long slow drag on a 2 cent cigarette, beautiful Filipinas
Problems with the website, confused clients, next project, employee issues
The same songs every night
The same problems everyday

The night of day wares on
The music and laughter seem to get louder
Clients get more frustrated as their days get more hectic
Slow Jams
Client resigned to solving the problem tomorrow
Morning crowing
Evening trek home
Sun rising
Sun setting
The pulse continues

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Poem Edited: Thursday, February 17, 2011

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