the waitress contemplates going home at the end of her shift by Gretchen Hill

in the tiny trailer 
she can hear mice 
just under the bed
and this morning 
the cat chased one 
into the cave 
created by the broken drawer
the woman sat 
listening to the cracking 
of its mousey bones 
as the cat crunched it down
there are cockroaches 
glaring from the burner plate 
and a dead man 
living in her bed
she goes on like this 
mornings soaked after a storm 
bruises and taped up windows 
mice and roaches claiming 
all the secret territory
every evening 
she does her paperwork 
counts her singles 
tips the busser 
all the while thinking 
about the journey home 
and what will be waiting

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