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End of Shift
By Christopher Bradley
12/7/00 10:55:39 PM

Time to turn off the blenders
And the taps
And the strobe lights
And close the doors.

Time for the people to go away
To their parties
And homes
And various places of rest.

They called the bar almost an hour ago
And the last lingerers are making out with the staff
And looking for cab rides away
And counting how much money they have left in their wallets.

We've had a colossal night
And the ceilings have rained with the fire of laser beams
And the women have danced on the speakers
And taken off their shirts.

And the Go-Go dancers have gone
And the Inspectors have Inspected
And the Police have had drink with the People
And the Ambulances have carried the drunks away.

And the DJ was like a Promethean God
With Rhythms and Tempos meshing on the fly
And even a few men have been given to the drunken folly
Of trying to follow a simple beat at 130.

It is time to pack up the flyers
And laminated cards
And clean out the Ice Bins
And pick up the shards.

It's End of Shift now
And we're ready to go
We'll be open tomorrow
Through Rain Hail or Snow.



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