Damion Hamilton's poetry blog. My ebooks are available through this link: http://www.amazon.com/Damion-Hamilton/e/B00YFZ44P8
Saturday, December 12, 2015
Eight To Five
Those are the peak hours for people
when humans are busy
they get everything done in these hours
everybody doing the same thing, at the same
damn time
everybody bumping into each other
everybody just missing each other
everybody just getting a little bit done
I love when these hours are over with
and there is less folks on the roads, or in the stores
I take the roads traveled less, of course
I don't feel apart of the tribe
Of course all the, "good people," live the eight to five life
it gets dreary and predictable when you can finish a person's sentence for them
and with the eight to fivers you can do that a lot
but those roads at night so are empty and great for me
except for the police
who are always thinking you are up to no good, by being out at night
They think the good people of the world have all gone home, to do their kids home work or watch television or cook dinner, and wait for their jobs to start all over again
"Why are you out so late?" they asked.
"Because I could not stand to be out with them" I say.
They can not understand this, at all.
of course.
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