Joblessness

In a cavernous, unlit
and empty room
this fear takes up
residence.
The acrid sweetness of sweat
loiters here,
mixed with a
vacant must.
The must of ages,
of abandoned buildings,
of dilapidated old derelicts,
crumbling down in the night
to sand again,
an erosion creeping through time,
with glacial swiftness.
It lurks in the hallways
for a newly wedded husband
coming home from
day's search for employment.
It spans a boney finger
to touch the heart
containing paranoid spore,
that spreads to a mind
gone mad with the ticking off
of each day,
bringing his little family
each day,
closer and closer
each day,
to the precipice,
each day,
to the tipping point
of homelessness.

END