Friday, April 21, 2017

A poem by Gary G Pelow, The Gallery of Zero Evidence

My cell phone has a gallery, my smart phone has records, records of what?  People.  What people?
Strangers on the street, strangers just standing there, or parked in a car for one hour with the engine idling, doing, well, nothing.
I see them everywhere, oh, maybe not the exact same people, but people acting the same, staring at me.
I see them texting on their smart phones as they follow me, or it seems they are following me.
Sometimes they are just standing across the street directly ahead of me, or on the street corner, texting someone, someone in charge as they spy on me.
Sometimes I see the same type of white van over and over again, not the EXACT same van, just lookalikes.
I can not seem to step outside my house without seeing these walkers, people just standing there or driving by.
If I am wrong, in that they are not spying on me or following me, I can not take the chance to confront them and accuse them of something with zero evidence.
I do the next best thing, no one gets hurt, I cope a little better, my life moves on.
These stalkers, these "perps", may not be stalkers or "perps"
So if they SEEM suspicious to me, I walk up as close as I can to where they are, where they can clearly see what I am doing, I whip out my smart phone and film them, I take their pictures.
If they are not stalking me or following me, than no big deal, I have a collection of harmless useless videos and pictures of random people on my phone that actually have nothing to do with me.
If they ARE STALKING ME, which I doubt, I have no evidence, but if they are, they have been caught at it, recorded and THEY KNOW IT.

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