Seventy-Third Entry

Um.....


Here's my poem:

POLICEMAN YOU GO FOR IT

Like a dork, you sleep your shift away.
Guess you had to be there is something you say,
tilting your head and tilting your glass
to get the last bit of pepsi. Now is when
you button your shirt and forget who you are.
Work is a way for us to separate ourselves
from the apes. But you spend your days
hauling apes away. The prisons hold
together the hands of America's men.
Not often do they come back, bend
to kneel, thank you and confess.