Lawrence
Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
The Graveyard Shift
At two in the
morning everything is old
The hours, the
work, the fluorescent lights
The air, the
night, flickering computer screens
Even the
freshly-made coffee in the break room
At two in the
morning everything is old
The way the
new guy snuffles his dripping nose
The cleaning
lady’s mop bucket and its rattling roll
The
snoopervisor’s totally fake good cheer
At two in the
morning everything is old
“You’ll love the
fellowship on graveyards,” I was told
