For what feels
like years, I've been
staked-out
on the perimeter.
I've been quiet, still,
and careful not to
ruffle any of the local
toughs' feathers.
I've refined
my hypotheses,
appointed
all my deputies,
cleaned and maintained
my surveillance equipment.
I've got mirror shades,
caution tape,
thermoses,
toothpicks.
The mic's hot
and strapped-on
underneath a layer
of Kevlar.
Any minute now,
I'll chance upon
the character I'm
looking for:
I will catch
the strange
man I'm afraid
I'm becoming
red-handed
in the act
of relaxing
for a change.
