Chewing through the 9-5 |
Issue 6
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Sometimes I flirt with old men
When I’m just trying to be polite Or talk just to remind myself that I indeed still have a mouth Nice girl Sweetheart Behind the counter Nametag says I’m the nicest in the room The best at the game But I'm a walking lie Yet they take it That face I hand back With the unassuming change So I feel grateful when I sell the final old man of the night His twelve pack of bud and three slim jims Relieved to see the sun sliding down the sky Taking its last breath As I exhale Finally turning off the fluorescent headache My hands locking the door shut The final hiccup of the night Swallowed and birthed into cough As I drag my body home Knowing the mess that awaits Dark and damp as a cave That cavern of guilt |
SIDNEY CRUZ won 1st Place of the Poetry Writing Contest. She is a writer from Chula Vista, Ca.
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