so the guy is leaning against the wall
his left leg bent back at the knee
his shoe sole is flat against the bricks
the way guys idle kind of like smoking
but not smoking just sort of waiting

there’s something vulnerable about it
like he couldn’t suddenly stave off
an attack in the crane posture
you know, where the kid kicks
with the leg he’s standing on

none of that

So he’s leaning against the brick wall
beside the store window and his hair is
slicked back in a shiny pompadore
his sleeves are rolled up over his biceps
his smokes are not tucked in there, but
they’re in his shirt pocket

confident he’s projecting confidence
right from his single black shoe on the concrete
to the fly settled on his pompadore
he is confident so confident he spits
marking his territory against all the
rubbery blotches of bubblegum
decorating the sidewalk around his
court confident confident confident

look closely at this guy
were you once, in an irony of karma
this guy
think in his head
spit again
assert yourself
the pavement trembles
spit jiggles
bubble gum is all exceited

god stalks the earth

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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