Riley welch is a poet from texas living in Denver. She posts three original poems a week. 

on whatever street

Sun sank sharp,
while the moon let out a vicious moan.

No days off. What a crappy job. 

Sometimes the sun got to hide behind clouds,
but the moon got these half-asses waxing and waning days.

Where he's still got to show up -- but only, like, a little bit.

Where's the fairness in that?

You know how hard it is to make other plans when you still have to show up a little bit?

Every now and then he'll get lucky.
And the night will go pitch black.
But then he'll get feedback of how "unsafe" it is and how "dangerous" driving becomes.
Perfect service 360 nights of a year, and still only a 2.5/5 on yelp.

At least in the summer. The nights were short.

Riley Welch