of an unseen truck backing up
mixed with muffled rap music
from a passing low rider
drowns the frenetic beats
rising from the Greek cafe on the corner
while bats squeak overhead
hunting mosquitoes, seeking blood
and a plush coffin cover of clouds
slides over the day in this dying town
as a seventeenth century steeple
rises above it all
to administer Last Rights
to the soulless box of a strip mall
and the abandoned deli
with it's blue pleather seats cracked
with sun exposure and unfulfilled dreams
all while a bumble bee tries in vain
to find some peace and shelter
in a neglected hedge before the frost
settles unto his wings
pulling him from the sky
like a helicopter with a broken rotor
and all of the aerodynamics
of an iron anvil
just as the neon lights
of the electronics store pop on
with a hum and a flicker
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