Broken Journey..

brokenbread winespilled,
burning candles at both ends
in nameless bars
somewhere lost on the
map of nameless towns,
downtown timeout
from pulpit and prayers,
taking boilermaker sacraments
amid thumping jukebox sermons
of betrayal and distrust,
banished pilgrims
silhouetted in smokewreathed
pooltable lights,
love n hate tattoo knuckled
truckers and female denizens
rehearsing their nightly catechism.

Hunted hunting,
sportjacketed
holstered badged,
feral eyes
glance
90 degrees
180 degrees
at Armanied,coiffured,
Latinos,
tracking for connections
or “mules”,
white stetsoned,stringtied,
Pharisees’foremen
scour unobtrusively
in the shadows
for more day labor;

Wearied wearying,
the long vigil til dawn,
the early Greyhound at 7
two blocks up by the post office
from this nameless bar
in this nameless town
somewhere on the map
he left behind.

(this is a “homage” to the songs and the novels and
just about everything else by my mate Willy Vlautin)

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