Lawrence Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
The Graveyard Shift
At two in the morning everything is old
The hours, the work, the fluorescent lights
The air, the night, flickering computer screens
Even the freshly-made coffee in the break room
At two in the morning everything is old
The way the new guy snuffles his dripping nose
The cleaning lady’s mop bucket and its rattling roll
The snoopervisor’s totally fake good cheer
At two in the morning everything is old
“You’ll love the fellowship on graveyards,” I was told
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