"Coming To"

                        On the midday quays of the urban east-side approaching broken evening. Luminous city afternoon light-beams pervade odorous refuge, amid stale prior yesterday, with it's unfortunate endeavors: all along the same four-story apartment balcony. A beige sunflower vase in bloom, rests upon a pale dusted sill. April was cruel with it's paper machete overtones, July presented us dried flowerbeds emptily, with unfulfilled promises, and brimming living room shelve-surfaces. Audio and out-of-tune, I walk you down these dimly-lit residential hallways. Insects of the north breed beneath pillared building wall entrances. Twentieth century portraits align the landlords poorly-lit kept office, darkened in dingy drapery. A miniscule five day grace period: this is all I have to work with of late. Mad drunken outbursts over custody children, dully painted upon a somber and melancholy canvas.
                      Into the center homelands now, a fortunate son who's just been deputized, somewhere along the vast outstretched flat-lands of Missouri's cornfield axis. Where day and night break together, the milkman and postman: blue collared entrepreneurs, who slay the past and modern housewife; all tuned up on sex and Valium. An expired state I.D., let us make our way to the first highway entrance south: A 24-hour truck stop diner, weak coffee and stale pastries. Watery eggs over and over again, easy, like the liquid that ran down mothers panties back in her prime period. I elude to the current recklessness one possesses while in this delusional grip, the verge of desperation or humiliation. An overwhelming agony that wears the interstate dweller down to the bruised and diseased marrow. One wrong turn off of death's narrow roadway cliff, they'd say it was all an accident. The hungry salt-eyed vultures know the taste of blood in it's raw crescent futility. The years of silken sweat and unrewarded effort. One's discreet ethnicity of no matter, we all taste the same: delicately fresh blood-red sinews tear off the vulnerable tenuous limb-bone.
                                              
                                                      Winding Down: A gentle conclusion
                              I initiate a friendly game of badminton with the neighborhood boys after supper. Early September hours dwindle wearily to resignation. The local delicatessen's window lights flicker through placid evening. Hungry police officers strive to make their anticipated quota off poor fatigued traffic-ticket violators.A soft drizzle pounces steadily off soft plastic awnings that suffice for rooftop drainage. These are the times in the day that I yield heavy caution to. The unmerciful gods have us in their grip. One Ice age away from a deadly violent unforgivable shake of Yahtzee dice.