People with plastic smiles
wave to me over their
white picket fences

I avoid their gaze
but they just smile as I drive
past

Back and froth
twice a day
every day
at minimum

I fear their cheerful greetings
there invitations to barbecues and
parties where I'll only be singled
out

I do not need the hive mind,
the men who we envision
in dark suits with red
eyes but who are really
just you and us down deep
inside

I drive by the
face of evil every
day

And as it chuckles
and laughs as I drive
by in my old beat-up
Volvo I avoid looking into
the empty-pits where
a soul is supposed to
be