Something is different and I don't know...
I wonder what it is though.
A million things course through my mind
like a comet burning through the sky.
And my id cries, "I just want a piece of the pie."
Like a game of Trivia Pursuit
when you know the answer to
everyone else's questions,
but hardly ever your own.
All you want is someone to understand.
Then someone does, or so they say.
But, the next thing you know they're a thousand miles away.
You think-screamed, "Why does this always happen to me?"
And a calm voice answered, "It happens to everyone."
If no one is around, what are you supposed to do
with the voice out of the blue?
You can't tell anyone...
which is kind of like that time when...
[REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT]
you weren't supposed to tell anyone that either.
But, it's funny how no one can keep a secret.
Everyone wants privacy, the law is supposed to protect,
yet 9 out of 10 times law makers are the ones breaking it.
So, like I said, something's different, no, I meant
broken and I do know what it is.
[10-12-2002 © Monique Finley]
Image Source
A Little History
In October of 2002, I worked as a Deckhand in the Marine Crew at the Horseshoe Bosser City Hotel & Casino, one of the riverboat casinos located in north Louisiana. Locals and regulars call these casinos "the Boats." And, like the riverboats of old, these also have fully functioning paddle wheels and multiple floors. I really loved the 3rd floor where there was a red Emergency Box with various safety implements required by Coast Guard regulations.
Riverboat Deckhands work 12 hour days, by far the longest shift at the Boats. I also ended up working in Slots (slot attendant) and Table Games (craps dealer). But, that came later. On the day this poem was written, I was quite likely sitting up on that red emergency box, smoking a cigarette, drinking a cup of coffee, and writing poetry while I waited for the 3rd floor trash to fill up. You see, even though the casinos had Environmental Services for taking out trash and keeping the casino cleaned, management just couldn't justify paying Deckhands (required by the Coast Guard) for daily safety drills. They got their money out of the requirement by passing Marine Crew all the odd jobs.
In fact, while working Marine Crew, I did everything from emptying trash to cleaning ceiling tiles; from re-upholstering chairs to replacing the game layouts (a.k.a. "felts"); from running emergency drills to twiddling my thumbs. Turns out I'm pretty good at that last one. :P
BONUS: For a picture of me at work in Table Games turn to page 10.
P.S. That was about the 40th time I'd smiled for that picture. Customers kept walking in front of the camera.
P.S.S.
Twitter: mfinley80
SteemIt Intro: What's Up, STEEMIT?! I'm Monique Finley, a Blogger, Poet, and Author of the Free E-Serial: Terra Damnata!
Serial Novel: Terra Damnata, Book 1 of The Pu'Shing Bhu'Tons Series