I saw christmas propped on a wall
a furry elbow anchored to faded brick
and an old frayed rope loose around the neck.

His coat opened to expose the belly beneath
a polluted white undershirt
covered in flecktarn flattery of the heat.
The suspenders undone, failed their purpose
but allowed him to
              decorate the building
          with a hot yellow stream
      that smelled uncomfortably sweet,
      the excess pooled on the cement below;
an alabaster sidewalk, darkened
by the corruption.

He didn’t stop when he noticed me
turning midstream
like an eighteen wheeler losing
                                its center
                                        around a corner.

Amidst the wreckage
a sign remains intact
moored to his chest
bobbing up and down with labored breath;
              “The End is Nigh.”