Different Slants

 

© March 2009 By Robert M. Katzman

 

 

I’m that guy

 

You pass my windows

But

 You don’t know me

 

I’m that guy

 

Been there

Forever

 

Maybe

some

dust

in the corner

of my

window display

 

Maybe

Some

Yellowed tape

still on

a 

Window

from an old sign

I

didn’t get around to

peeling off

 

And I wait

 

I’m that guy

 

I own the Store

 

I’m there

Every-Single-Day

 

Under

Buzzing

Fluorescent lights 

Classical music

softly playing

 

But

not

too

Distracting

 

Temperature

Inside

my store

is 

as low as I

can keep it

 

In

Winter

 

To keep

my

damn

Gas Bill

from

Soaring

 

You drive by

You walk by

You skate by

 

Cell phones

to your ears

You may barely notice

my

ancient  

Retail

Face

 

Expectantly

and

Endlessly  

searching

the

Empty Streets

outside

of

 my

Door

 

Watching

the

Parade 

that

rarely  

stops

 

 

                                                                                                                                           (Read on …)

© February 2009

Bad cut

on

My leg

From a

Rusty old nail

Swelled

Like my knee

was

Blowing a bubble

I

Slowly limped

into the

ER

Frightened

Seeking

A pill

and

A smile

The grey-haired and serious

Intake lady

Lifted her glazed eyes

from her

Beeping computer

took

one look

At my pregnant knee

and

Knitting her eyebrows

Like she was

Makin’ a baby’s sock

Put down her pen

and

Made a call

Big white

Hospital doors

Crash open

and

Out came

this

Vision

this

Scandinavian

Goddess (Read on …)