Ginger or Coal

My brain hurts 

Inside my head 

But the streetlights are 

Dim yellowing and

Far between.

Say hello nonverbally 

To ghosts and

The anxious dead.

I walk on the side of 

The street I normally

Never would.

Shaking from hunger 

And bad nerves 

Like bad dogs and 

Out-of-date software.

Feel the crisp cool air

And jingle the 

Wind chimes on the 

Transom of an

Empty funeral home. 

Crunching leaves 

Under the worn soles 

Of shoes a summer old.

I don’t know where this 

Next road goes

And I don’t really 

Want to know.