following homeless man
taking loose steps down footpath
playing the blues on his harmonica..
he’s wearing a blue Ford jumper
stops to survey the damage on a blue Ford.
Keeps on with the blues
stopping at every metallic pole
to tap his harmonica on it
as if the resonance
is part of the song.
Follow him into the park
he stops, bends over near rubbish bin
to sort through cigarette butts in the dust
the sun is setting low in the sky
yellow light fills the air falling through
the green leaves illuminating them
the scene feels cinematic.
warm summer evening
old ladies with facial hair walk together
pushing old lady trolleys
moaning in Greek.
a discarded cheap
white wine bottle sits
propped against the oak.
people work-out with their personal trainers
youths no older than thirteen
sit in groups drinking clutching onto
nicotine symbols of rebellion.
tiny, fragile white legs in short skirt
stands behind alpha male.
an african man with thick rimmed glasses
in a cheap blue suit
stares flagrantly at young woman
yelling out random obscenities
and muttering things to himself.
quite obviously crazy..
no one says anything.
a mother and two sisters
argue outside the commission flats.
body language and tone tells me
everything i need to know
i try not to listen.
i don’t experience any kind of vicarious pleasure
from stranger’s troubles.
a hound trots by much like a regal horse
would on a fox hunt
a pretty woman plays with her dog
her red hair is glowing in the light.
homeless harmonica man stops to pat dog..
and sings “i’m all about the money, money, money
not jesus, jesus, jesus”