It's just simple case
of man mocking art
mocking man.
Go ahead.
Be a mocker.
Who? What?
Who said that?
Poems in:Pocket ~
No Fuck'n Tough Guy
Nine in the morning on a wet drizzly day
I had gone in town for bagels.
Hadn't had much sleep that day,
can't remember why.
Went in town for bagels, not my normal hour,
as I sat I stared into the window.
The man who sat beside me
separated by the aisle
reflected vaguely in the paine.
The large man wore a Texan's hat,
pointed boots, and at his waist
were bullets in his buckle.
Once done his meal he turned a bit
with smirky self satisfied expression,
watching with significance
as I bit into my bagel.
He fist fucked his travel mug with a napkin
aiming his behavior - intimidation -
across the narrow aisle.
I stared at his reflection.
Unmoved, and with deliberation,
slowly tearing madly with my teeth,
gnashing at my bagel,
I stared at him,
at his wavering reflection.
Soon I saw his tough guy image
shatter in the paine.
He got so flustered that he left,
and leaving banged his mug into a table.
He left his lid where it had fallen
on the floor.
I reached down and picked it up
set it on a table.
A woman came in, looked at it a moment
and never said a word.
Took it with me just for spite
and there on my way home
the big man now diminished
circled round the block and stared at me
from within the confines of his truck.
© D. Winter 1999, 2007
