The Madman at the Casino Gas Station

He comes on fumes

And flames
Of wild hair

A matted corona
Around his dark face

And blazing eyes.

He mutters about wanting

Change

And the apocalypse

Drills into me with his gaze

All I want is some air

And I don’t mean to breathe.

My tire is going flat
On this long cold desert road

And there is nothing
And brother

I mean nothing
Between

Albuquerque and Grants

That can help me

Except this gleaming

Tower of money changers

This monumental golden calf

Of games and hustle

A local girl

Dressed to arouse

In hip tight skirt nametag company logo

Stiletto heels
Looks down
Black hair falls over her eyes

Says the only air hose

In the place is broken

That she isn't paid to care about

Necessary things like whether

Or not the trees grow

Or ravens soar

Or travelers have air

She asks if I want to buy

Some shares in the company

To join her on the path to

Towering riches

Sure thing she says
Hopefully
Embarrassed

As I push the thick bullet-proof

Plexiglass door open and step back

Into the cold sun

Indifferent sky

The madman smiles

His eyes gleam

He needs nothing

Sees God in everything

As monster trucks roar by

Safe from the biting wind