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Greg Razran

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Member Since: Before 2003

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Nightshift at Dunkin' Donuts
by Greg Razran

Sunday, August 11, 2002

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Recent poems by Greg Razran
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           >> View all 37

In this crumbling town,
As dead as Michael Boltonís career,
I keep the keys
To the kingdom of sugar and caffeine.

The local gentry of
Beggars, druggies,
And mental patients
Line up my counter,
Night after night.

The boss isnít looking,
And I give them free refills,
Feeling like Robin Hood.

Women with dozens of dirty kids,
And more on the way
Share the space with
Laid-off EJ workers,
Wearing overalls.

These ghosts of this ghastly town
Have flocked together like mad birds,
Beckoned by the promise of French Crullers
And Irish Cremes.

I donít love them.
I just keep the promise,
And silently fill their cups,
As the rain throws itself
Against the windows.













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Reviewed by Daniel McTaggart 8/14/2002
I'm a nightshift worker myself at times. I love writing and reading about people at that particular period. They seem to exude poetry. The one thing that scares me is a town as bad off, if not worse than, as Michael Bolton. That's pretty low.
Reviewed by Jessica Horton (Reader) 8/11/2002
Very nice. Well done. The setting itself is unexpected, and it only gets better from there! Very realistic, Greg. I can see this rag-tag band without any effort at all, and as the poem ends, I can imagine looking through the rain-soaked windows, watching the whole scene play out. Nicely done.
Reviewed by Masarat Daud (Reader) 8/11/2002
Very good write Greg. The ending was the best because it doesn't categorise the poem as a "happily ever after" ending...it just continues and that's the best part.
Reviewed by Sailor Neptune 8/11/2002
ooooh haunting true though what isnt of the day lives out in the night....
excellent

GC
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