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
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