I look through the windows of my eyes from the safety
of the room in my head at your world
and wonder.
Watch you move, you mobile statues looming past me,
like telegraph poles on the road.
I step out inside my battered shell to struggle through
your world,
but I am alien here.
Stare with senseless eyes as you shovel your fuel into open mouths,
seeming so natural.
How do you do this?
I ask inside the room of my mind.
When I must brave the hazards of the world
I put on the little body that is left.
Merely a bipod for my mind,
in which I sit and drive,
swerving around the hazards of running children,
large old ladies ploughing like great liners through the world,
the stern look of knowing they know best grafted upon their face.
Down-turned mouths, heavy, sagging jowls like their handbags.
Oh don't see me, don't notice, please.
Let me be invisible.
I try to be ethereal, move like a ghost
- not offend or hurt,
and I do not come out often to bother you - let me be.
Soon I shall be gone,
So let me pass out of your lives and minds without comment.
