deborah humphrey

night duty with him and I realise I’m in the wrong profession

corridors of beds
raucous snoring
failing to drown
your muttering
porn or other
bodily matters trip
from your lip
newspaper open
page three
damp patches
where your stained
cup leaves its mark

I should have applied
to be a ring-tailed lemur
day shift only glorious costume
female company sunbathing
grooming meditating bellies
raised to the sun hands open
receiving generous rays
reflective eyes gently protec
histories of ancestors
yogis dreaming flowers for lunch
strong bonds

sun slowly falls         

predators approach

we bark ghostly harmonies shocking

hunters till they find homes

in dark corridors