“Crazies”

“You walking tonight?”
The cashier seemed concerned
perhaps the frequency of my visits
for cigarettes, coffee,
has made him overly fond
I nod and collect my change
“Be careful of the crazies!”
he calls after me

Be careful of the crazies
these maniacal creatures,
lurking in alleyways and dark corners
guilty of dangerously mysterious motivations
Seemingly, they
slip even from description
as if by some dark sorcery
we recognize them only by sight

I recall, months ago, same store
busy day, long line
rather than stand and be breathed upon, I
busied myself, looking at merchandise
my selections in hand, with my wallet
but my hoodie was wrinkled
my hair hastily bound
and it was me receiving the eye of suspicion

What qualifies as crazy
is dependant upon perception
based on identity
which will always be biased
and yield contradictory results
the question becomes
should we take solace
or be afraid
knowing that we may be
the most
or least sane
among them

© M. Black, 2016 All rights reserved.

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