BLOOD IN THE LOBBY Poem by Tony Nesca


BLOOD IN THE LOBBY

walk through the convenience store
there’s a door through a dark hallway
that leads to the main
lobby and the
elevators
past the bums and the sniffers
the crackheads
the drunks
the potheads
the working-class immigrants
scars on the wall
broken bottles on the floor
sometimes blood in the lobby
bob used to hang here selling
rock
now reggie took over
but he too friendly this
barbados immigrant
he too kind and crafty
too wasted
chillin’
and
shaky
hands awry, crocodiles too drunk
wolverine in the dark doorway
i look at reggie
i look at our caretaker
old bat hump on back
gimp leg
fears no one this wiry strega
i look at laura
i look at the sun
the moon
the car exhaust
the old man shovelling snow
from the driveway broken down
house nothing but a shack
on corner by whorehouse
all lit up like
a carnival
destiny walks with back straight
emma sticks to the shadows
i look at all this,
shake my head
thinkin’,
i got nothing to say man,
nothing….


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