Walking
Something different. Experimenting with spoken word stuff - and you don't have to make it rhyme!
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Always moving, waiting. Always pacing.
Sometimes slow shuffles with dirty plastic bags hanging.
Shuffling steps inching along. Agonizing. Slow.
Looking down, standing sideways. Staring at the curb not the endless paved path going somewhere.
Unsteady, littered carts full, rolling slowly.
Purpose and determination and speed crossing the street. Dragging the cart behind with freak flag flying.
Sprinting somewhere. "Have you got any spare change"
On to the next person pumping gas in front of the mini mart. "You got a dollar?
No cart at all.
Just walking. Slowly, quickly, around and around the mall. Don't get to the end too soon. Before you are ready.
Life's path in concrete. Marked. Hard and smooth.
What happens if you stop? Just to sit and stare straight out from the metal chair at Starbucks?
A need to get somewhere. To the next somewhere, and the next, and the next.
Ride the bus to our stop. Then get off and go about our business.
Ride all night, half turned to the glass in the white light. Staring. No business to get to.
Just sit on the cement. Everybody will look then, and pretend not to. Hurrying to their business.
Somewhere to go.
The next trash can and then the one after that, and then the one after that, and then the one after that, and then the one after that, steel and stone maids all in a row.
Keep moving, you have somewhere to go. Something to do.
Roll along on the bike. Up and down the ramps to the sidewalks. Going somewhere. People to meet, say "hi" to.
Moving.
The big pack takes up a whole chair. Nobody will bother it. Nobody will take your noisy radio.
This is the rich suburb. You can sit here every day and smoke. You don't have to go sit in the library.
You can go back and forth to the rest rooms at each store and move the pack to the concrete bench over there and go sit across the driveway behind the palm tree.
Walk to your job in the morning. Walk home at night. Carrying everything.
Don't stop. Keep going. Keep walking.
Pacing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth behind the bars.
---
Always moving, waiting. Always pacing.
Sometimes slow shuffles with dirty plastic bags hanging.
Shuffling steps inching along. Agonizing. Slow.
Looking down, standing sideways. Staring at the curb not the endless paved path going somewhere.
Unsteady, littered carts full, rolling slowly.
Purpose and determination and speed crossing the street. Dragging the cart behind with freak flag flying.
Sprinting somewhere. "Have you got any spare change"
On to the next person pumping gas in front of the mini mart. "You got a dollar?
No cart at all.
Just walking. Slowly, quickly, around and around the mall. Don't get to the end too soon. Before you are ready.
Life's path in concrete. Marked. Hard and smooth.
What happens if you stop? Just to sit and stare straight out from the metal chair at Starbucks?
A need to get somewhere. To the next somewhere, and the next, and the next.
Ride the bus to our stop. Then get off and go about our business.
Ride all night, half turned to the glass in the white light. Staring. No business to get to.
Just sit on the cement. Everybody will look then, and pretend not to. Hurrying to their business.
Somewhere to go.
The next trash can and then the one after that, and then the one after that, and then the one after that, and then the one after that, steel and stone maids all in a row.
Keep moving, you have somewhere to go. Something to do.
Roll along on the bike. Up and down the ramps to the sidewalks. Going somewhere. People to meet, say "hi" to.
Moving.
The big pack takes up a whole chair. Nobody will bother it. Nobody will take your noisy radio.
This is the rich suburb. You can sit here every day and smoke. You don't have to go sit in the library.
You can go back and forth to the rest rooms at each store and move the pack to the concrete bench over there and go sit across the driveway behind the palm tree.
Walk to your job in the morning. Walk home at night. Carrying everything.
Don't stop. Keep going. Keep walking.
Pacing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth behind the bars.
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