Cold Noodles

Trodden leaves

Pasted to the ground.

Anticipating new beginnings.

 

I saw the little Asian lady

 in her car again

while I was walking the dog.

 tonight, she was still awake.

 

Usually she’s passed out,

or sipping cold noodles,

and sometimes she just stares

at the steering wheel.

 

I don’t want to exactly

look, but I can’t quite look away.

Because when I look,

I only see a shadow

of the little Asian woman sitting in her car.
Parked under the yellow

streetlamp haze she’s

frantically checking the rear view mirror,

her eyes darting

now she is gazing out the driver’s side.

She’s been beaten.

 

Paranoid. Completely fried.

Her senses overworked.

I slowly walk past,

 

Passed her passenger side window,

all I can see is the picture of a person

reduced to primal,

inherited

responses from a species

we can no longer claim to be.

But still I walk past.

 

The Dog Walking Page