NaPoWriMo: Day 28

I worked very briefly for the News & Star in Carlisle,

Day in court, sipping flat coke while
petty criminals walk in and out;
merge into one teenager.

At lunch I sit with reporters
who talk about ‘crazies’ and send
them letters about God.

In the evening I walk through Carlisle
town to the bed and breakfast, curl up
on the bed and flick through battered
‘Nineteen eighty four’ that my dad
once owned.

The sun, it goes down and I swear,
I can hear the clocks striking thirteen.


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