The Attendant or Pas Seul

A r ed ca r par ks in front of the window facing the street each night
Again and again it pulls in
And out
Backs up through empty spaces behind it
Makes to pull out
Backs right up anon

The woman driving it sits inside moving
Repeating motions

Sometimes she needs to open the door
The light inside turns on
She’s not in there alone ever
That lot has cars in it all the time
No attendent in the marked booth

This is Motorized pacing
Her signals on
Implies that she’s waiting for something

Is this what bumpers are for?

She doesn’t park well
Has to get out many times to check if all her wheels are in between the wider lines
Her car wide and sedan tarry
straddles the lines

Who knows where she wants to be…

The guy in the black shiny car without his lights on, without plates
He wasn’t walking in her direction out of his car
But does linger by her back window for a real ly long time
Until the delegate she’s yelled to makes his way over
Just in time
The white lightless man is done

Between the two removed bars of the gate
On the vespers
There are men hidden in them thar cars
Trenchant patterns
The lot somewhere between
the high, or open
the sea, spring and mainland
exists through layers of air having different densities
the vapors refract off of her
inverting senses
de Facto