State of the World Address from the Bottom Left-hand Corner

the black-jack dealer laments over a hi-ball:

“It’s depressing.
All day I see people lose their money.
I’m contributing.
I’m part of it.
I’m losing along with them.”

BSB

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Princess of the Wastelands

I can hear her now
from across the room:

the princess, with doe eyes

she believes she lives here
this is her living room,
and these are her people

a party
her party, perhaps
and she’s doing her duty, entertaining guests

until the music dies

and the curtain falls

BSB

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Witness

There is always,
in every dive and bus bench
and street corner and bar-stool and bank line-up

some shifty gent with cracking skin, thick glasses, scars or scabs,

who mutters curses under his breath to no one,
seemingly,
but me.

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I am the chosen one
who soaks up the confessions of the lonely and lost and forgotten.

Lucky me.

One of these days. I’ll witness a death. I just know it.

Why do bad things always happen to me?

-BSB