Tuesday, 10 December 2013

the all inclusive Crazy

The sidewalk fell uneven, 
sloping off to the street

conferring, on the people  
who tread upon it, 
a somewhat drunken gait 
as they ambled along, 
veering determinedly, 
away from the cars 
that the crocked path 
seemed bent, on offering them up to. 

and, then, as a women passed me by,
she uttered the word:  Crazy  . . .

and it lingered on my mind.

what was Crazy?
the sidewalk?  the traffic?
me - moving in old lady traipses?

or was she outing herself, as in:
look out, I’m Crazy!
she was, after all, talking to herself.

she smiled, self-consciously, though,
as if she was embarrassed at being caught
mumbling:  Crazy . . . but what was Crazy?

it was, an ugly evening, as I recall,
that hissed with random cold spits of rain
and the odd mean puddle splatter

and, of course, the cockeyed trajectory
we fought - to get where we were going.

I suspect, she thought - loudly thought:
it’s Crazy . . . it’s just Crazy.

one, of any number of people,
walking around - thinking:  Crazy . . .
I suppose, as in:
the all inclusive kind of Crazy.

photo:  On the Sidewalk - W. Bourke 

© 2013 Wendy Bourke 


  1. Another good ending: "the all inclusive kind of Crazy."
    Enjoyed the walk with you on that uneven sidewalk on that ugly evening with the Crazy woman. ;)

  2. Thanks, Janet. I read a while ago that talking to yourself is actually fairly common and, for the most part, indicates that one's mind in attempting to stay on track in a chaotic situation. I've done it myself, occasionally, when I'm trying to read something on the computer and my husband is watching a TV program in the same room. Still and all, talking to oneself, is a huge social taboo - even in the most innocuous of circumstances, and seldom escapes notice. - Smiles.

  3. This made me smile. I have been caught talking to myself and it is embarrassing lol.

  4. Yes, especially - as in my case, when family members take such obviously joy in pointing it out. Nice hearing from you, Jennifer.