Rummage

I am car less
So I took to walking under the rain
passing all those cars in traffic
I felt a sense of accomplishment

As I did, on the dog shit infested sidewalk
My thoughts came knocking
Knowing that I would shun them away
But having forgotten my headphones
I hesitatingly welcomed them
as grim or as random as they may seem
They entered, first step forward
“the nerve on these rascals”

As I carried my legs
along the pavement
first, as silly as it sounded,
I started scanning the pattern below my feet
and made sure that all fit perfectly
geometrically

Then someone passed me
That cologne, met my thoughts
and they invited it for a drink
over that drink, my thoughts asked it
“hmm, nice scent, did you get it
is it YOUR scent?, what other scent friends
do you hang out with? Did his girlfriend force
this cologne on him?”
These thoughts had no mercy,
they questioned that cologne
like no tomorrow

All this in my head,
in a split of second
all in silence

Walking through,
I spotted an old man
carrying a plastic bag
with parsley and oranges
coloring that cheap transparent bag

Again my thoughts clung to his image
They too invited it for a drink
“What’s for dinner? Where’s the wife or you live alone?
Why are you walking late, under the rain? Oh you’re wearing converse?”
Poor idea, sat there on that round table in my brain,
again quiet

Then I passed him and my thoughts let go of his idea
Step by step, ideas roamed around in my head
like crazy alcoholics seeking the next idea
to binge on it, let loose

Oh foreigners!
Here we go again,
Those crazy thoughts
Seduced their idea to share that table in my head
“Why are you here? Do you even like it here? Maybe
cause your presence is temporary you enjoy
this country’s corruption? But seriously
Why here?”

Silence, I can only feel
the rummage, but to the world outside
I am just a car-less person
walking under the rain

I got closer to home,
these faces walking past me
prompted my thoughts’ invitation to them
Oh the questions, they asked
Oh the curiosity it spurred
I’ve seen them before,
bumped into them,
I know them,
but I don’t
This instant identity click
is street language
I am sure you know
what I mean,
Sometimes this click
prompts an involuntary smile
because “yea I’ve seen you every morning
but I know nothing about you, but
know you”

What if I truly articulated these questions to strangers?
Imagine the stories i’d weave

I got to my apartment
and for some odd reason
once I found myself
in my familiar zone
these thoughts got too drunk
and crashed
into
routine
mode

Have you met my thoughts?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s