Also Mutants

Pedestrian

7-10-17

Jaywalking the intersection
cars don't seem to cross
'til there's a pedestrian,
he claims the gait of a
horse past its racing days
but game enough to be chased.
Nothing but the air swarms
in faux suffocation grasps,
with a menacing growl but
an otherwise meek temperament;
mostly drying off unnoticed
in the Mount Rushmore of silence
billowing widely in his thoughts.
Random, then gone
without interruption or
changes in pace.
Trained. Not derailed,
but vacant save the fury
of rust working overtime;
ideas and problems and solutions
in a flow chart starting
and ending with "Nothing/
Now What?" and a sense
of peace (for a moment).
Legs here in motion;
mind there in a stillness
of near collapse.
He is he, and he is that.