Day to Day

I work my days in a drive-thru Costa, to see
how Janet cleans the tables: a revolution
of clean in dishcloth form.

I sleep my nights away in a motel. The banging
on opposite walls comes from Tinder
and Heinz beans on misshapen stoves.

The nights I spend clanging wine
glasses filled with discounted
Pepsi, with negative bank
statements glaring
from the letterbox.

My mornings are spent considering
Janet’s way of showering, if she wipes
her brick like skin like she wipes tables
as Lana snores besides me.

I work my days in a drive-thru Costa, to see
how Janet cleans the tables. She misses
a spot so the dirt uprising can begin.
Lana would never let a lesser
being control her property.

***

I should really stop taking hiatuses. After some time away from my craft, I’m finally back to writing Creatively. And what better time to start again for National Poetry Day 2017, which this year is themed on ‘Freedom’.

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