Non-Erotic PoetryI Hate My Job Sometimes3 days before Christmas,
There's been an RTC,
A girl's been hit on a crossing,
A van at unknown speed.
A voice on the phone,
"I hit her, I don't know how old she is!"
The voice, belligerent, angry,
Refusing to do as he's bid.
I want to scream,
"You fucktard! Just listen to me you cunt!"
Is she awake, breathing?
He again refuses to see.
The ambulance arrives finally,
And later we are told,
She was dying during that phone call,
She was only 10 years old.
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