Don't Walk, Jeremy Nathan Marks
Jeremy Nathan Marks
Originally published in Morel Magazine
We drink from lidless cups on our break
the pavement wet from the rain
Three cigarettes for him in fifteen minutes
but I simply take coffee
reminded of all of the reasons this beverage
is bad for me he doesn’t care at all
not about that hacking cough
that makes his barrel chest bellow
not about the fact that he started when he was eight
Who says we’re gonna live long lives?
Who says but my doctor I gotta quit?
Think I’m going to be doing this shit to the grave?
He laughs, yeah, I do
From where we’re standing I see London Place
that old crone in the clouds
there’s an office up there where they hold my mortgage
its blue glass dripping a dismal grey
not me, I say
and look at three men
old, older, oldest leaning against the loading dock door
They’re like a covey, a set of marks
on the corner the sign says Don’t Walk.
Jeremy Nathan Marks is a London, Ontario-based writer. Recent poetry appears/is appearing in KYSO Flash, Cajun Mutt Press, Writers Resist, Unlikely Stories, Rat’s Ass Review, NRM Magazine, Poets Reading The News, Eunoia Review, The Conclusion Magazine, Bravearts, The Wire’s Dream, and Poetry Pacific. His short story, “Detroit 2099,” will be published in Stories of the Nature of Cities 2099 later this year. His website can be found here.