Third Shift

Subtle sighs resonate
from greasy grillers lips
as a late night party
keeps them working hard.
The black and white floors
are gooey with grease
from twenty four hours
of shoes, food, and sweat.
A waitress holds her head
in worn out, cracked hands,
her dark hair pulled back,
and her bow tie on the table.
Such a loose atmosphere
with very little noise
is the perfect shift for her
to avoid judging eyes.
Black, white, and red
surrounds her everyday;
death, purity, and blood...
the Steak 'n' Shake,
twenty four seven,
mundane and insane way.

-Mizark
2/12/06