newer poems

 

 

NY Cop

Sgt Smith was a cop in NY City

He’d worked the streets 2 decades

Seen most things including death

Up close and personal all the time

Had ways of dealing with it

A hard drink after shift

 

Or even mid shift is ok

Coping was coping in work

And in life which mattered

For he was a cop in NY

He even wrote bad poetry

On what is was like

A final way of coping

 

When the drink failed

Wrote in an old leather pad

None of his colleagues knew

Drinking was fine for he was a cop

They need to cope day to day

He wasn’t a teetotal God lover

Unlike some but a real man

 

Hard edged with stubble

Thick glasses receding hair

And a 38 calibre pistol

He’d used this 3 times

Part of the job as was drink

The poetry writing NY cop

 

 

 

Hell had fury yes/a large abundance of it/you will be fine there

 

 

Boss Meet

There’s the boss of the B2B account

The rep says Hi to him and gets ignored

Something aint right that’s for sure

His OM has a neutral expression

Neither happy nor sad or what?

Look there’s the SD walking away

It’s obvious both met for a ciggy

To discuss an important thing

How are the sales doing?

Or the fate of the B2B account

Where to send the reps

When it goes tits up

The sales hide

 

 

Move On

Things are changing

Continue to do so

Way it is always will be

Rivers change course

Mountains rise and fall

Suns burn and perish

Like love weak strong

It all goes down the tube

As a business can

Or jet plane fall down

Even positive happenings

Go south eventually

Momentum ceases

What then?

Move on…

 

 

4 Days

My old TL died on 4/28

He will be buried on 5/2

What a difference

4 days makes

Alive dead buried