Wednesday, 18 April 2012

The Outsider

Distant eyes

Peer out

And a rare sight can be seen

As a man smiles behind nicotine stained glass

For the rain falls on everyone today
and he is justified
and can speak in common with people

But he doesnt
and wont

For the purpose of the curtain and the window
though put together are separate

And the window smears
as rain drops slip down the pane

He sighs with a shallow breath
And the warm and dank of his forgotten voice
leaves a moisture mark

He stands and turns his back to the window
And leaves for the front door

People appear suddenly around
corners and behind windscreens
With shot gun stares that gaze for an instance
And are gone

Tires heat and shred beneath them
And the smell of burnt rubber lingers in the ether
as the man steps over the scorched remains of a tires sole that left its mark

The car roars off down the high-street
 and reduces to a faint purr
As the man crosses the road

The pavement
and  getting to the zone in which he operates quickly
is all that concerns him now
and he walks on what seems like a running wheel
a vortex of red bricks which forever spin beneath
as he scurries along

People see the man and glare for he is known by face
and uniform

He contently pulls out a pad and writes
a ticket

Thats a beamer on a double yellow
he thinks

And slaps it on

what luck

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