Water ran up to
the top of weather blistered
shoes, straining the slush
from the top, making
socks thick and soggy,
wrinkling toes,
like cave fish,
blindly bouncing off the heel and
soul.
He had been here for
weeks now, he left a warm job in an office building to get creative.
He got cold instead.
The sky became more oppressive,
graying like his socks, and
threatening to dump the remainder
of it's goods.
The stores were all closing up
and the sun went down without
saying good night.
Signs turned
lights out
Ben waiting for the bus.
Mass transit will delay
if the cause is just, such
as leaving a pedestrian
to contemplate
job opportunities,
wringing out his drawers
over a newspaper box.
Screw it
Walk
Slogging one foot,
dragging the other,
focusing
on the steps cause the
walk is just to damn long.
Light glows in front of
him leading him into a
runway
doorway
place to stay
A fine tavern
A fish hangs on the wall
A fart ladder sticking up
from a novelty mug.
The tender bends about
his bar, looking for shells
to sweep up or gum to remove
from stools.
He keeps a clean place
it's dark and red but
the floor is a bit
sticky.
Ben wrings the coat,
dumps 5 dollars
of loose silver on
the Formica and orders
up some peace.
The pourer of drinks
pulls down a bottle and
sloshes it to the top,
wiping the spill with
his sleeve as he pushes
the glass forward.
"Rough out there."
Ben nods.
"Rough in here, too."
Ben looks up into
the man's eyes and sees
Santa Claus kindness
and sunshine.
"How long you
you been lookin'?"
"Been a long time."
The bartender
nods pouring another.
The jukebox kicks on
and sings as men stare
at their futures in
puddles on a bar.
Jack Brennan is hired by a group of ultra rich English aristocrats to kidnap four top IRA terrorists. The contract is time limited but do the financial rewards justify the risk?