The complaint desk in these hills leans robotic
only out of habit thanks to the decades.
But the clerk – the clerk who covers nocturne’s hours
mostly – does lapse humanistic if a few
nips of tequila can be snuck for tips
like when coming closer to clocking out
– meaning no hard feelings against a den
diplomas happen to plaster; life has a way
of giving each their perfect handicap. No pride
here. Oh no sir. Gratitude is this land’s lord.


About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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