The Rush Hours

The sun dazzles off of chrome, glass and painted steel
And the rumble and whine of engines is a rising cacophony
While I sit silent on my balcony and watch
The raging rush hour trundle by in slow motion

My Coke sits on the little glass table and sweats in the heat
As I sit on the cheap dime store lawn chair and watch
Slowly sweating away my after shave cologne
Waiting to see that certain paint color from on high

I always wonder if I will sit here for the whole of the night
And never see that car make that quick turn off of the road
Into the drive of my apartment building’s parking lot
But up until today I have not been disappointed

Today I have sat and watched the painted parade on the street below
For how much time I do not rightly know in my excited state
I only know that my drink has run out of ice to sweat once again
And that it may not be the heat that is making me feel breathless

For now I rise to throw the watery waste of my drink into the sink
And fill the empty glass up with ice and Coke
And look at the clock though I truly don’t want to know how much time has passed
Since disappointment has crept into my heart and mind

Tonight there will be no call from down below me by four floors
No shout of hey there baby from the pavement of the parking lot
As she throws her purse over one arm and her overnight bag over her shoulder
And smiles so toothily that I must grin in response and raise my voice in reply

The rush has gone out of rush hour now and the beating of my heart has slowed
I am the portrait of the lonely man in the city
All alone on a balcony drinking Coke and smoking cigarettes
No longer worried about fresh breath and cologne

When the shadows have overtaken me I rise and gather my things
And creep inside my condo to sit in the light cast by neon and bright buildings nearby
To wait for the coming phone call short and sorry with no need for a rush now
The message has already been sent and received and I am older and wiser by one evening
She calls from the lobby in tears