Thursday April 20th, 2017

The exercise:

Write about: open season.

The water guys at Public Works hooked up water to the last washroom to be opened to the public this morning, which meant I got to clean it up before leaving it unlocked and usable.

Which would have been a much easier and more pleasant job if somebody hasn't been finding a way in there to use it as an overnight drinking and camping spot. A matching key? Elite lock picking skills? Dark ritual sacrifice?

Who knows. But hopefully they'll either knock it off or get caught doing it. Or be appeased by the fact that the toilets can be flushed now.

In happier news, I'm meeting up with the bakery crew after work for a 'going away' party for me. I am very much looking forward to seeing them all again.

Mine:

That special time of year
Has come again at last;
I've waited for so long -
It's gonna be a blast!

Grab the guns and ammo
And leave behind the frowns.
It's opening day and
It's time to hunt some clowns...

2 Comments:

Greg said...

I guess the washroom has the advantage of being sheltered and relatively safe so it's not that surprising that someone's been using it like that, though how they got in in the first place is probably an interesting question. Still, like you say, they may be less inclined to do that now the washroom is back in regular use :)
I hope the farewell party goes well and is lots of fun! And that they're not all grossed out by your stories from your new job ;-)
Ah, I see you've decided to deal with those killer clowns once and for all in today's poem! I feel I ought to point out that you're only freeing up more space in the ecology for the murder-hoboes though....

Open Season
No rhyme, no reason
Open Season.

Letters written from the heart
That never know how they should start,
Poems written from the soul,
Tatty fragments from a tattered whole
Excuses made for living poorly,
A waste of time, almost surely.

You're watching me, is this treason?
Open Season.

Warning: this cake may contain nuts,
I die a death of a thousand cuts.
The gluten in there makes you sneeze
I didn't know about allergies.
Excuses made for behaving badly,
Banish me: I just leave sadly.

Once I thought you were the reason,
Now I know it's Open Season.

Marc said...

Greg - we ended up putting new locks on the washrooms and there haven't been any break-ins since then. So I guess they had a key for the old locks.

More space for the murder hobos sounds like a problem that will have to be dealt with at some point...

Really like your second stanza especially. Nice work!