night shift

night shift

 

rooms of tossing and turning

the sheets

spilled romance

into heartless passion

 

she stares at the ceiling

the clock

feels the sweat

pouring from his wallet

 

she picks up her purse

folds the green

as he lies spent

serene

 

for her another day passes

without connection

to what used to

feel.

 

 

erin-cilberto

5/8/24

Reviews

[h d e rushin]

among all of this media chatter about trump and his payment to a porn star is the more visceral understanding that more than visiting a prostitute is the desire to do so. Perhaps it's the fact that they offer far more than sex or comfort but rather something more informal and eccentric. Like poetry perhaps. Plath picked up men just to drive around with them in the car as she mentioned in "The Bell Jar". Not for the infidelity of temptation and not for sex. But because they had no emotional connection to her and for those instances, she didn't have to feel. "Night Shift"? I get it. Heartless passion. dana.

I wrote three poems today. Getting stronger if not better...lol

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Can't wait to read them, Dana.
I am glad you are getting stronger...and I know your poetry will always be strong.
You are one of the best this site has seen.
j.

[Ted Kniffen]

Life is hard
and then you die
two souls briefly touch
one will laugh
one will cry

People gotta do what they gotta do to survive.

Good one j.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, they gotta do what they gotta do.
others might judge, but they are not in their shoes.read moreyes, they gotta do what they gotta do.
others might judge, but they are not in their shoes.
j.

[Soren]

Great lines
"feels the sweat
pouring from his wallet"
This poem is gritty as life itself. Raw and hard. Prostitution is what we all do, selling ourselves and labors for the sweat from a wallet.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your words, Soren,
j.

[Brokensoul]

The pain is palpable even in such a short poem. Loved reading it.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words,
j.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

The working girls practicing the world's oldest profession need to make a living too. I mean they have no retirement plan or 401 K. And the nearest they can get to a union is sharing the same pimp. I bear them no ill will while offering them no business either. To them, sex has become a commodity used to survive but they are the real victims of their profession. A thought invoking write, I enjoyed.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Yes, nothing but a pimp...and no retirement plan.
j.

[poetgurl]

A bunch of different emotions come through with this write,
Very well penned.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, Meg.
j.

[Alisa Js]

Hmmm, this sounds like a night with a lady of the night or a memory from the perspective of a sugar daddy after he realizes that's all he really is and nothing more... sad, really... yet it paints an accurate picture of where many find themselves...

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your insightful review, Alisa,
j.

[Desert Knave]

A very stark look at too many people's reality. ~Jim

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Jim.
j.

[Fairy Khan]

This embodies the pain of what could have been! Nicely written, Jacob.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, Fairy,
j.

[emmajoygreen]

Your somewhat mix of emotions here can be interpreted in different ways by the thoughts, insight and imagination or your different reader, jacob. I think of a job application for the reader with a mind most like like yours: you write to search the how, when. where and what of others' minds to find that lone other being. Perhaps.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I believe that to be true...and I thank you for your words, my friend,
j.

[emmajoygreen]

My review was far too long-winded, apologies for that even though you trundled though it very kindly!
.