Door Step to Door Step

Across Winery’s front lawn
And down
The road,
A scar
Cutting the vast expanse
Of deteriorating East Texas Country,

Young girls and old men
Seem to congregate
In the same places,
Where
Those few conscious,
Are a/c maintenance workers
Smoking a cigarette a top a hundred year old red brick building
Full of nick-knacks
And contagious last breaths
Blindly walking
Door step to door step
Back and forth.

I ask one;
Why?
But
That requires honesty
And it’s never
Good enough for me.