street corner parlando

it is intriguing to pick up on a telephone conversation, when not directed your way. since the caller is ever so slightly pushing up the volume on the street corner where i pass, i actually do hear every word he’s saying. while transfering an armload of grocery from one hand to the other, careful not to trip over any toes, his or my own, i get past him. the man is smartly dressed in white cotton armor, supposedly guarding him against the hot summer heat, sunglasses in place, a sweater draped loosely over his shoulders. he’s sweetly rocking his torso, mildly plowing non existent air.
while i am doing my best to ignore his conversation, i hear him darting towards smooth talking ‘all white, baby, all white!’, which fits his pale posture anyway. until i realise he’s tirelessly cooing someone on the other end of his cell, as in alright, alright! i smile fondly over the gentle tongue twist. our local men get lyrically anglo-saxon at times. all they need is a little bit of heat.

1 comment :

  1. Well, you taught me a new vocabulary word today! I had no idea what parlando meant. I thought it was like parlance, which it sort of is, but more like a musical cadence (at least according to my dictionary!)

    I like your description in this little snippet of life: "he’s sweetly rocking his torso, mildly plowing non existent air."

    Isn't is fun to people-watch?