Thirsty Bronwyn

She sat in her office, coffee full of salt.

She sat there sipping folly, the customer on hold.

Everyday another one, another angry stob.

Bronwyn couldn't take another minute of this job.

The glass of water she neglected lost it's cool.

If only she could see it in fact was half full.

Instead she took the glass, pitched it in the sink.

Now she's dancing poles Friday nights at Pink's.

She spends her hangovers on a walk of shame.

When the taxi ride was so steep it'd maim.