Urban Scarecrow

Let me begin by stating that not all scarecrows are friendly or pleasant to look at. They are not simple minded folk who will whisk your poor ruby slippered ass on some magical psychedelic LSD trip. Scarecrows can be mysterious, elusive, and downright creepy. Now my experience with the urban species is limited; after all I am a simple country boy. But yesterday I ran across an amazing specimen. Scarecrow Man was a collection of plastic drugstore bags and scraps of clothing, giving him a rustic 'blowing in the wind' motif. The collection yielded a lumpy sun-bleached weaving of urban grime, nests, and earthen musk. One foot shoeless, the other housing a casually draped tube sock, he listed towards the right. Scarecrow Man was working, his patchwork quilt shoulder bag hung heavily. His face was green, the cucumbers absent from the clay facial mask he so naturally wore. Two sticks were knotted in his hair, precariously emerging above his nape like insect antennae. And most frightening of all he walked with a limp; who is this man and what is his story?