aisle

[I think the most important part of this poem is "300 sardines mashed in a bus can 5 million people mashed in city plan". No matter what we think or what the individual does, the collective whole must change for change to be present. Why are we controlled by others? Why are you?]
[I find male strangers usually keep their eyes away and move quickly by me on buses. females will move cautiously or extremely quickly with a glance. no one locks eyes for more then moments, and whenever i look at people who's race i don't see often i wonder if they think about fighting me when really i just want to see a new body and new face that i have never seen before. so fascinating, but they always get afraid or angry -- like my perception breaks a hole in their shield. a woman ran into me at a government office today and i reflexively turned around smiling saying "it's ok, it's fine :)" and was surprised to see a woman, scared. an adult? i thought. scared of another adult? what a ridiculous trait! i'm obviously only trying to conduct my own business -- why should anyone fear contact with me? but wars wage on over a thousand snipers crouching on one knee]

it's cold outside
don't break a stride
we'll see you laughing
we'll feel terrified
it's cold outside
don't you stare at me
if i see your eyes
i begin to lie
thinking you're meant for me
thinking you were born free
excuse me,
did i touch you?
excuse me,
i didn't mean to.
if we make contact
i dont know what to do about that.
stand aside,
keep this aisle wide
if a crowd is dense
then there is no recompense
for contact
or eyeballs
but in the vacant streets
should wandering eyes meet
they look away
"i don't want to die today"
"if looks could kill,"
"he'd give me a thrill"
when they grow old
they don't do as their told
they stare and ponder
they walk straight
should you interrupt their way
continue, until you move
they don't bother dealing with your groove
old people
they're harmless
won't smile or look
won't beat you or be a crook
so they can do as they please
they never hurt me
one day they'll all go crazy
someone walks into me
i smile say it's ok
and they are afraid
genuinely afraid
what kind of stranger is unafraid of contact?
what kind of person is --------

300 sardines mashed in a bus can
5 million people mashed in city plan

one day they'll all go crazy
old people stop being lazy
and when they're about to die
they'll detest all the broken lies
a cane will fly, they'll scream high
notes and run amonk, bashing cars
stealing purses, punching young men
until the governors ground them down again
pour them back into sardines
bus them over to see Old Nadine
and her place, is very nice
they've got sheets and beds
flowers and lead covers
for the few who get the flutters
nervously, thinking about radiation from tv
and on screen a fish will smile
if they had the money they could..
be walking down this grocery store aisle...

eating again
from the good land.