Poem by P. S. Perkins

GRAVEYARD SHIFT

I live amongst the graveyard shift.
cars tightly parked
early evening any given day of seven-day week.
apartment full of tenants
                                                      frozen food dinners
                                                                   take-out wrappers

with no space to play silently in the corner.
Early morning risings before sun that never sets.
One rotation after another...
changing shifts from mother
                                                      to brother
                                                                                to sister to uncle...
couldn’t beat the heat to keep up.
Masters in the corners taking bets wondering
which one they can catch next
stealing from the factory line
where the break never comes
unless you give up someone
to the sacrificial gods of mechanized greed
in our need to work ...
            the graveyard shift.

THEME: Historical Hunger
From the poet: Family went through this during past and recent times to cycle jobs and provide food, etc. My mother damaged her hand on such a line and...while scraps sometimes came home...from a variety of "lines".

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As an author and scholar, P. S. Perkins is published in several prose/poetry anthologies, as well as published professional works on Human Communication.
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Her motto is: Be true to your word because it will always be true to you!