Poetry: The Night Shift
April 23rd, 2007
This is a poem in hateful memory of all the slightly posh teachers at primary school who thought they could climb another rung up the social ladder by pronouncing the word poem as “poym”. It doesn’t make you sound posh, it makes you sound like an arsehole with a speech impediment. Stop it.
Anyway, this is a poem that I haven’t written yet and which I am going to bash out off the cuff in a minute, about working a night shift, which is what I’m doing.
The Night Shift
By Christopher J. Marshall
Here I sit in the office
Dark it is outside
How I long to feel
Sunbeams warm and wide.
As I sit I wonder
What the point may be
For I would not be sat here
If I were a tree.
Soon I will climb the steps
Reach another floor
I will work for one full hour
Behind a wooden door.
Some may think it crazy
Some may think it crude
But I work these hours for money
So I can buy some food.
Entry Filed under: Chris,God damn poetry,Think about it
8 Comments
1. Kevil | April 24th, 2007 at 10:58
bravo, bravo. Top show sir!
2. Ian Mac Mac Mac Mac McIver | April 25th, 2007 at 08:32
I like it: simple but effective.
3. Chris | April 25th, 2007 at 09:36
I’m looking for a publisher if anyone has any contacts.
4. Ian Mac Mac Mac Mac McIver | April 25th, 2007 at 12:20
I’ve got contacts in my book and in my eye *loves singing the Police although thinks Chris might not appreciate the humour*
5. Chris | April 25th, 2007 at 13:00
Rrrrrrrooooooooaaaaaaaaxxxxxxxxxxxxxxaaaaaaaaannne!
6. Ian Mac Mac Mac Mac McIver | April 26th, 2007 at 07:03
Do you remember the explanation for Police songs we came up with? My favourite was Don’t Sand So Close Tommy (for everyone else that’s ‘Don’t Stand So Close To Me’).
Jippetty Jappety loins!
7. Chris | April 27th, 2007 at 17:17
NO
But I do remember Sting trying to send a Ness O’Ess to the world. Great days.
8. Ian Mac Mac Mac Mac McIver | April 30th, 2007 at 07:01
*just giggles to the stupidity of it all*
Sad mack 🙁