Neon

Frightful stairwell, blood splash, creak and swing to scattered envelopes,
Metal door, surprise, there are apartments up there.
Planter pots like soup bowls, flowers rim to rim,
Train cars slide on magic rails near carriages drawn by horse.

Head down, steady stride, black coffee too hot to sip.
Bus driver, eye contact and smile, reminds me not to forget.
Book in hand, I watch the same buildings, same speed,
The same stops claim patrons, drop them corner, city, wide.

Afternoon, buildings in reverse, grey men talk inaudibly.
Screech and stop, business district, earpiece cell phone,
Glass towers, valet, red hand to green man, birdcalls,
White—noise, the afternoon sheds a subtle smile.

Tattered fatigues and poorly written desperation, I carry
No cash with wallet full of ones. No eye contact and smile,
Don’t forget your Vets. Those with songs to sing I praise, Elliot
And his cello, songs I know, those I don’t, prelude to my show.

Alcohol, spit kissed gin, tired and lacking sleep. We shoot whiskey
And sip darts, triple black and bull’s-eye red, know our numbers
But don’t have to, paint our picture with the feathered end.
Connect the scattered dots, fill in the crooked lines.

Stairwell gaped, heavy door ajar, a welcome home of stampeding
Third floor—remember little, think of less—wrapped in blurry blanket.
Blink to alarm, tired and lacking sleep, neon lit hallway buzzes
The same color as the night before.