Little
ditty 'bout five males, one a cat:
Dinky
washes car in parking lot.
Seized
with sudden fury, shouts to White Guy and anyone else within range,
rhetorically,
What's
that snitch doin' here?
White
Guy sees shiny black Mercedes parked across street by laundromat.
Snitch, long in leg and torso, eases out, stretches, shakes loose
with jive moves.
Snitch
carefully groomed in sloppy street blinged finery, cap bill pointed
correct way of day. Girl exits Mercedes, prances into laundromat.
Mr.
Hill murmurs to leashed Precious in grass beside laundromat.
Therapy
cat, same as his brother, father and grandfather, Mr. Hill tells
White Guy.
Mr.
Hill speaks softly, articulates with casual care.
Snitch
yodels at Dinky:
Dink
you bring dat rag here so's I can give her a wipe yo!
Dinky
(no inverse name) responds with gusto:
You
want this rag you come here and get it!
Snitch
boogies up and down, saunters over, supercool, displays verbose
command of au courant black screen argot.
Dinky
turns his back, buffs customer's car.
Snitch
jabbers, boogies up and down.
Girl
prances out to Mercedes, hops in.
Snitch
lopes back, joins girl.
Mr.
Hill lifts Precious to his shoulder.
Dinky
buffs customer's car.
Mercedes
cruises off.
White
Guy wonders at the spelling: duh or doh?
