Little Man 0n Monday Afternoon
Quarter to five…
He stands at the corner of the pavement
Slamming signs, making sure he is heard,
Stabbing stake into dampened earth
That relents with a sucking sound
Softened by two weeks worth of rain.
He has made the attempt
To end a contract, already entering into another
Knowing full well his actions are illegal
He is a large man, in a large truck
Stomping toward me,
Finger pointed, dropping f-bombs
In an attempt to bully…but that’s okay.
I can drop f-bombs too!
It is a word, after all, and I do so love words!