keeping files

February 15, 2013 § Leave a comment

so, I’m in the window again

for three nights running
I have watched
the same bunch of boisterous drunks on the corner down there

it is the sort of
weird sequential tableau
that holds my attention

for a while, anyway

allowing me just enough time
to craft back-stories
for each of them
working out their exchanges
with each other
assigning regional accents to be used as they
assault the sensitivities
of passers by with
insults and crass suggestions

I notate the habits
of the group as it
grows denser
over the course
of an hour or so
not much larger, mind you
but rather
weightier, thicker
newcomers seem to be absorbed
into its amoeba like form,
willingly I might add

I notice that as a unit
it breaths and pulsates
at odd frequencies

it’s language is one of short
loud words and sporadic silences
separated by laughter

eventually parts of
this organism start to peel off
and wander out to the dark edges
of the street

as I close my notebook
and reach for the curtain
one of the offshoots stops,
looks back over his shoulder
and gives me the finger

apparently I’m not the only one

keeping files on
the life forms
of the night

(c) Fred Whitehead

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