Cranking the Night Shift at the Poem Factory

Plain Talk
No meat and potatoes either  
Gave that stuff up   
Just nuts and berries for me   
A salad or two or three   
I wish I could write with them fancy words   
Not my style though   
Just a ranch hand in a urban money town   
Favorite black t shirt has holes in it   
I call it air conditioning   
Cranking the night shift at the poem factory   
Good thing they don't pay me by the word   
I'd be busted and broke   
No thanks Mister   
Pay me in cash   
I ain't pretty but I sure can spew   
You've read my words   
Truth brothers and sisters   
Only the lonely   
I'm writing your story   
I'll be good to you