Verve and Nerve

Spicy rancid lilacs

Removing the sweetness from the day

Mixed with the chicken fat, chicken grease fried smell

That makes him gulp and swallow the morning

Face the unwanted obligations

As the sun drops blind through

The reflection on a shiny cane

That hits the pavement with a thud

And yearns for a hand carved

Sleek, polished walking stick

That he will never see

Because of the wretched

Sweet and bitter

And the noise inside the silence

Cannot be contained within

That fragile eggshell

Of a life that wants to escape

And move on to a greater destiny

An impromptu bouquet

Of color in galvanized buckets

At the storefront

Under the striped canopy

With a shopkeeper that smiles

And hums a wistful tune

But it’s always a mixed bag

With the weeds in the cracks

And the rancid oil in the air

Getting more notice than the

Shopkeeper’s pure white apron

And the hospitable invitation

For a cup of the intangible.