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Poetry: PARANOIA it’s a rap

true…

Maybe he’s waiting for someone or no/one
But I notice things and I’m coming un/done
He’s watching me – now I know I’m the taR-get
Sent to verify my game and file a RE-port
Followed me to the car park where he can see
The grey shallow shifts of my mad eneR-gies

Ya. That’s right.

Pretending to clean out the trunk of his fat Ford
Absently sifting through some stuff that’s been stoRed
Not finding any garbage – don’t it seem he is bored?
Bare hands moving slowly and he’s waitin’ some more
There’s a military in-sig-nia displayed right there on his hat
An’ he driving a Crown Vic – and it ain’t got no hub caps…

YA. HE’S UP TO SOMETHING.

I’m going about some of my same old ROO-tine
Walking around my truck acting like I DON’T see
I stretch out my legs and sneak a peek at this guy
When fear starts to grip me I try to whisk it aside
My unused muscles are stiff and they’re aching
And I’m dreaming up stories that my fried mind is MAKE-ing

Ya, no, maybe – I’m a little crazy.

Something’s not tight with his demeanor and his ride
Companies will hire them – don’t I feel it IN-side
He’s not dressed RIGHT for this early December morning
Today catches my breath after a hard frost warning
But maybe he’s waiting for something quite differ-ent
My mind likes to play games and this guy is like a mag-net

Ya. He’s unusual.

He’s just a guy, wasting time – in the wrong place
He’s turned up his collar now I can’t see his face
Maybe he’s homeless and this car is all he’s got
I’ve invaded HIS silence with my two barking dogs
He’s probably wonderin’ what the hell I’m about
But maybe he’s a spy with nothing to RE-port

Ya. That’s right.


© 2014 deb davies thorkelson

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2 replies »

  1. I didn’t get the “rap” part at first when I read the title. Then, as I read it I thought to myself this sounds like rap. I feel silly now that I didn’t get it at first. I like it at the end when you say that you’ve “invaded HIS silence.”

    Like

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