poetry

After Work

That late night slump,
That late night dump,
Of all my brain matter,
Oozing out, dripping into pools around my feet.

That late night sound,
Of no one around.
Not even a stir down my street.

The day was long and rotten,
That is past and forgotten.

For that late night slump,
That late night dump.
Of all my brain matter,
Oozing out, dripping into pools around my feet.
With a beer in my hand,
I slump in my seat.
As I dump any sense as sit and watch pop culture TV.

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