In the parlor, an old man
Shoots craps and cue balls
While puffing a rare cigar
Bought with criminal funds
From the government debacle.

Upstairs, a worn woman
Nibbles her uneven fingernails
As she sputters frail fragments
Into a receiver, something about
Ten late payments, collector dues.

In the adjoining washroom, a preteen
Child sits in the sink, sobbing
Stories of endless mockery and
Two years of failing marks in art,
Her bloodied arms a new canvas.

Next door, her brother, a young man,
Is breathing heavily and swimming
Slowly in a sea of sheets, losing
His virginity in the bed he slept in
When he was four years old.

And in the basement, an infant
Chokes helplessly on a hair tie
Because the nanny had to rush
Away to the backyard, itching
For a mid-afternoon high.

The neighbor,
Smiling,
Brings over a plate
Of freshly baked
Chocolate chip cookies.