Exhaustion’s Claim Check
by Odin Roark

Life’s downtown storefront.

Guilt’s insomnolence enters beneath temptation’s tinkling bell,
blinks through yesteryears’ clouds of loathsome tears,
and stares as circling shadows bid welcome.

Unclaimed pawns dance seductively like a bargain-dressed chorus line,
gartered legs lifted high knowing well the price desperation pays,
filling the shelves of temporary fixes,
frantic actions to be left behind, but seldom forgotten.

Dust floats heavy through window’s light,
like lingering entrails of candle smoke
dancing the dirge of funeral chatter.
Memory’s fingers search and claw for resolve,
knowing a claim ticket is all that’s needed,
to lift an orphaned cry from exile.

Misfortune’s greedy Shylock steps up to a caged counter,
fingers through his ticketed archives of despair,
toys with insomnia’s claim ticket,
but feigns regret that expired time ran out.

Lament returns to tossing and turning once more,
anticipating tomorrow’s daylight will but conjure up another pawn,
shoring up a bit more of time’s eroding landscape,
hopefully securing a night of repose,
that peace of mind enigma
pillowed deep beneath life’s tradeoffs.