Evening Market

By J.S. O’Keefe

dread pulsates through the evening market 
under dying neon lights 
strange men armor shimmering 
prowl through
their eyes are hidden behind mirrored visors
their movements seem smooth 
almost clinical
 
I want to study their faces
are they chiseled cold sullen 
do they have their own 
hopes 
secrets 
sorrows
 
suddenly I can see one of them 
I can see through his visor
I can see him sharp and clear
I can see that the man 
looks like me 
 
no wonder 
they won’t lift their face shields
they know too well
they are no different from us 
they are of us 
 
souls are parched out 
under dying neon lights 
in the evening market

J.S. O’Keefe has published several short stories, creative essays and poems in print and online literary magazines. More at his website: https://www.szjohnny.net