Waiting for a cab

I was staring at a mud puddle on the corner
of 6th and Alameda.
It was busy being freckled with drizzle.
I stood there against that wall

and watched it.
My stare worked a full shift.
The kind of stare that not even the
zipping by of hurried cars and
wailing sirens could fuck with.
I watched the rippling fiasco
and drifted back to
earlier that day.
To when I saw a car
stuck in traffic that had
a sheet of plastic where
the passenger window
should have been.
I tried to calculate the odds of
the plastic being effective
against the cold, against
the rain and against
the stares from people
like myself.
Then it hit me.
As sure as the rain
sent tiny circles emanating
in the puddle from it's core,
I felt a certainty
within myself knowing
that it could happen to
any of us and the odds

were that it probably would.


Ray Strickland 12-12-09

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