an empty peanut shell
tumbled down the stairs
from the upper deck
STRIKE HIS ASS OUT
yelled the drunk
his colors
painted on his face
his breath
smelling of a single father
i tell you
this guy was close to dust
the closest i’ve ever seen
something that didn’t convert
oxygen from co2
or vice-versa
i was close to the sun
far from hope or hip
or a care in the world
all i had
all i wanted
was vitamin d
processed meat
the sound of wood
on yarn-stitched leather
and my seven-game parlay
to pay dividends
FINALLY
if not
i’d be eating
that empty shell of nut
for every last speck of salt
as i wait for the trolley
to take me
to the subway
to the bus
away
