Blank, desolate--
the occasional car that drives on by..
Dark clouds hang low over my mind..
As a subtle breeze blows cold..
A small plane circles above..
More birds, than people here..
Which is strange, because I'm downtown..
The ground is still wet, from yesterday's storm..
I'm aware that time hangs so heavy, when there's nothing going on..
It's unusually chilly for mid-May weather..
Sitting in this little booth, what so sadly and humbly is called my guard shack..
On weekends it get's quite lonely in here..and I feel like I'm the only one who cares..
There's not much to do..Eat a sandwich, drink some cherry coke, listen to the radio..
and read a good book..
I've been reading Mr. Crowley on my off hours..It helps pass the time away..
and writing to you of course..for posterity of future verse and latent memories..
My rear end, feels like I've been to the dentist..
Only the nova-cane missed my mouth by more than a few inches..
Or imagine the afters after a Village People concert..
Suffice it to say, my rump has taken some punishment indeed..
From all the sitting you see..
My eye glasses weigh so heavy..by the end of the day..
they leave marks on the bridge of my nose..
My elbows hurt, my knee caps ache..I could use some rest you'd might say..
I'm laughing now..the humor of it all..
Really..I work a cushy job..
Taking numbers all day from truckers..Inbound/Outbound and often times..
giving them directions...
So, my Life slips away..like so much grain of sand through my fingers..
Take hold of my hand would you..and be my friend..
I'll even give you a dollar~~the end
by Rick Weber
May 17, 2014
1615 hours
copy rights reserved 2014
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