Swiftly Pass the Days

The big fat yellow sun, dawn,
and pretty soon noon, then the
moon, life goes on.
It is freezing outside, Tanner
knows, screw the phony baloney
glow in the walk-up window.
This is Chicago. He’d be
lucky if the temperature climbed
to zero and it didn’t snow. Tanner
showers, shaves, dresses in his
best, fully aware that in the flimsey
topcoat he’ll freeze off his nuts.
“How Not To Live While You
Die.” Tanner ponders the
title of his forthcoming novel,
as he hops the EL for his daily
journey through hell, applying
for jobs that, like the little man
upon the stair, aren’t there.
“The compelling story of a guy
trying to get by. It will make
you cry.”
The train speeds through the frigid
streets, racing toward noon, racing
toward night, toward the morning
of the next day and another big
fat yellow sun glaring at him,
like a blind eye in the winter
sky.