Thursday, 1 March 2012

the locksmith, the shoemaker, the squid vendor

The shoemaker,
Stares at the blistering souls
Of every woman, child and man that step pass his shop

The locksmith
Stares at the clasp of jingling keys with heightened sense-
That same jingle that haunts his dreams for those homes
That have been broken into

The squid vendor
Stares at every hotdog held in hand
Wishing that Korea had not been modernized

The jeweller
Stares at every naked finger, neck and ear
Dreaming that everyday was a special occasion

The florist
Stares at every tulip and chrysanthemum
Hoping it will shed new light in others lives   

The palm reader
Stares into each soul that passes by their tent
Cursing each one under their breath

The umbrella pusher
Stares into the sky praying for rain
With voodoo doll in hand

The wedding planner
Stares deep into the eyes of soul-mates
Envious of new love

The interior designer
Stares at wardrobes and pocketbooks
Envisioning a fashionable yet affordable utopia

The stuffed animal schemer
Stares and taunts each man
In respect to his woman’s worthiness

The stocking salesmen
Stares at the legs of women
Hoping for subways filled with ladies
And wishing each day be colder than the last

The accessory retailer
Stares at unadorned individuals
Hoping that their garments
Catch the attention of any set of eyes that inch a glance

The mirror merchant
Stares as you eye yourself
Desperately hoping it catches you in good light

The silkworm vendor
Stares at the faces of those
Who just caught scent of the tasty earthed creature-
In wonder of just how far the smell actually travels

The golden pop cd salesman
Stares at the swaying heads of the depressed subway passengers-
Hoping that a tune
Will bring them out of their worn down, overworked state

The military guards
Stare blindly; only keeping track of the
Years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds,
Fractions of decimals of fractions of time that remain
Until their ‘duty to their country’ is served

The elegant elderly
Stare at the aged faces of other elders dressed in rags-
Fully aware they await the same death
Only they are dressed accordingly

The obese
Stare at the reactions they receive-
Wishing that they too could fit into society.

The children
Stare at tall buildings, fast cars, and corporate monopolies
That have advertently hedged their way into innocent minds.
I’m loving it.

While the homeless
Stare with wild drunken eyes
Glazed upon suited yuppies and swollen pocketed youth,
In search of generous handouts, loose change and dropped wallets;
Roaming the streets for makeshift cardboard lay-over’s,
Breathing grates to ward bitter winter nights,
And back alley dumpsters

And I,
I stare at it all-
Judging, mimmicking, drinking it in

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