In the west she'd be locked away

[justcloudy]

She ambles between egg vendors,
football playing screaming boys
and the local station de police.
The chatters and mumbles don’t stop
going from spider to howler in an instant.
She must have been educated once
before the psychosis set in;
her French, accompanied by saliva darts,
is better than mine.

I saw a man offer her bread today.
Hadn't seen her before his arm outstretched,
I guess it's a spider day.
She didn't seem to understand,
maybe she just wasn't hungry.
At first I thought him her caregiver
I've wondered if she has anyone,
but that's just my western brain,
I think. Because then I remember her wiry hair
tied up with that kind of plastic rope
they string figs onto,
shifted backwards onto chopped gray
from its flower power place,
and how there's never a fly too far off.

She is as scenery in this place
and I’m the only one phased
by her accusing stares.

She reminds me of what I am not.