Page 81
By Jack Joseph Smith
In the middle of the
3 o'clock night the moon
makes just not in the
sky.
different in a corner of
the room words, a buzzing
mill in electric lit.
I am the nightman, and
I live up the boilers for
the coloring crew
stains across the "market"
the "courage", the "freedom"
"sir", and the "re-serve".