Scavengers by Marcus Jonesthey watch from the shadows
fully attentive
witnessing your every move
and gesture,
hoping to get
some sort of
information or hint
a way to possibly get in
closer in a way that they
couldn't before
they can't make a path
for themselves
they use the cues and hints
that you feed them for
ammunition,
hoping that you slip up-
that you offend
and possibly leave yourself
open in such a way that to
avoid further embarassment,
you'll walk away
if you're lucky
it works out for you and
you'll never see them
they'll remain in the shadows
drinking their beers or
talking to friends
or just sitting there
waiting for the right time to
go out on watch again
but if you aren't so lucky
if you so much as leave the
wrong impression
then they strike,
darting in with military
precision,
like world war II
spitfires during a
bombing run
cutting down all
opposition in their midst as they
make their way to the target that
you somehow managed to miss
there is an unseen battle
that goes on every night in
every bar, nightclub, coffeeshop,
and restaurant
a battle that has raged on since
before time was recorded
any regular at any of these places
have seen this take place
hell, many of them at one point
or another took a side in this
whether they were bored by
what was happening around them
or frustrated by what they were
getting from the opposite sex
or they felt the need to assert
themselves in the role of asshole
sometimes, just simply
they thought they stood some
sort of chance with your
target of choice and
felt that they could do better
however these veterans who defend
their turf by showing up night
after night
know that it is bad business
to get involved in the negotiations
that may lead to a sexual
encounter
they remember it is bad karma
to cockblock
because it goes against the golden rule:
"do unto others as you would
have others do unto you".
while it is highly frowned down upon
the act of playing cockblock
sometimes is a necessity in order to
save a bad situation from getting
worse or to keep someone from straying
too far from where you stand
however these people,
these scavengers
are like buzzards flying
overhead while a man is dying
of thirst in the desert
they eat away at you
when you are at your weakest and
take away what you have worked
so hard on all night
if you fumble and stumble
they pick up the path you lay
and in the end they reap the rewards
that may have been rightfully yours
either way it goes,
whether an innocent that becomes
victimized or an attacker
that claims innocence,
there is one simple thing that is true:
everyone hates a scavenger...
03/04/2005 Author's Note: i wrote this in fifteen minutes while drunk as a skunk! :) no pain, no substance, just observation. this was motivated by a night of partying and seeing many, many people getting cockblocked by different individuals in my favorite nightclub. why can't some leave well enough alone? i hate a scavenger!!!!
Posted on 03/04/2005 Copyright © 2025 Marcus Jones
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by Ava Blu on 03/04/05 at 06:57 PM HAHAHA I love it! It does seem more like a story or perhaps prose is the better word for it. I think you could cut it down a little, if you wanted. I must see this bar! =) |
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