Prompt| Prose Poetry
Breaking Bread in Vegas
Of all things remembered
Sent to Las Vegas — city that never sleeps — mastering the art of coding and billing. Uncertainty at the forefront — to gamble my life’s earnings away. Maybe I tie one on — cliché to the core — drinking to a stupor and forgetting why I was there.
Flicking of cards — invitations to sin cities favorite past time — shacking up — hooking up with a thousand others before myself.
Time to kill — hours before diving into the deep end of frivolous to great absorbing — knowledge of practical application. Let us walk — starting at one end to the other — passing human statues — mimes and juggling fireballs — to the reason I was called to Vegas.
Hidden in the guise chargemaster’s scrupulous outlines by the state and governing bodies — simpler for of life’s understanding — connection with stranger — adopting as familial tune.
Two outings — timeless or hour and half for those keeping track — stopped by a homeless man.
Can you spare some change?
You hungry? First thing falling from my lips.
Yes.
When was the last time he ate — thoughts floating about — let’s go in and grab a bite.
I can’t go in — they threw me out.
Entering with cash in hand — offering a weeks worth of food — content is what we both were seeking. Matthew begins shoveling without considering chewing his food.
No judgment — confirmed hunger sitting before me — life discussions commence. Sitting before a known felon — strong-armed robber coaxed to rising ranks of a local youth group — looking out for themselves.
Fuck! Why would you do that? Sorry — didn’t mean to slap you with the obvious. What is your plan?
I want to get into construction. I want to own my own company.
Nobody will hire you — you are a felon. Brainstorming with Matthew — go to a private construction firm — tell them of your conviction — truthful and upfront — grovel if necessary. Ask forgiveness once more — hoping to safely land on solid ground.
Chances are — under the wings taken chances — young man asking for a new start — welcomed into a hardworking family of similar folk looking to build an empire of their own. Seasons will pass — with dreams of owning your own — learning the trade — hiring a crew of others looking to make a wage.
Eyes welling — glisten of hope filling the room — Matthew collapses into the story before him. Digesting these words — with Nate showing up to share in these words — giving him the remainder of my happy meal.
Two strangers — coming together as one — sharing a vision of new beginnings — embracing like brothers never met. Parting — never knowing what became of Matthew — a warm memory fills my spirit — the city that never sleeps.
~Ani Po
Thank you Zay Pareltheon, Marilyn J Wolf, Viraji Ogodapola, Paroma Sen, Samantha Lazar, Wry Welwood, and the whole Scrittura family for sharing these words.
