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.

Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh