Another Liquor Store Poem

I dropped my lighter
While trying to light
My tenth cigarette
While the heat was
Struggling to turn on
Sometime after midnight
In this smoke-filled room
In cold
Dead
January
Six stiff vodkas
And music
And voices
Humming
And cancer
Looming
And loneliness
Present

Dimming toward
Darkness
Imagining weddings
And funerals
Of strangers and
Self

Stealth

I board bussed
A mind bomb
A time bomb
A poor
Limp John
That can't even
Afford a conversation
With a crack whore

Before I walked into
The liquor store
To buy my nightly
Fifth
And pack of
Cigarettes
A black man
In a zebra-patterned
Sweater
And black-rimmed glasses
Yelled
"Sir! Sir!"
At my back
I turned around

He had a shaking hand
Jutted out at me
I grabbed it
And we shook
It was natural
A handshake
Among strangers

He put a hand
On my shoulder
And said
"God bless you"

I wanted to say
"Fuck you"
But he was earnest
Probably insane
But causing no
Real harm

"You too,"
I said quietly
With a fake smile

He took a step back
Stared into my eyes
And walked away

I bought my fifth
And cigarettes
Walked back out
Onto the corner

He was standing there
Smoking a joint

"God bless!"
He smiled and yelled

So that's what it
Means these days

I opened my bottle
At home and didn't
Bother using a glass
Smoked a cigarette
Took a swig
"Fucking god bless,
Assholes"