Man on the corner I am watching you. What’s with you anyway? Everyday you pull up and park right outside my window. Even though you are across the street I still have a good view of your comings and goings. Everything you do fills me with curiosity. Day after day you sit in your car. You arrive approximately at the same time each day. You are as predictable as sunlight. I know you will be there in some capacity. Sometimes, you open a passenger door. Other times you keep it closed. Sometimes people get in with you. Sometimes they leave the door open, one leg hanging out. Other times they close the door and close me out. Still other times they just lean in your window. All the while they make me wonder. You make me wonder. You rarely get out. You rarely do anything except sit behind the wheel and open and close a few doors. What is it, exactly, that you do? Are you a not-so-undercover cop? A not so discreet drug dealer? Are you a cranky crossing guard who can’t get out of his car? Are you stalking someone? Are you guarding something? You, man on the corner, distract me. You, man on the corner, are driving me crazy.
Man on the Corner