I wanted to stop someone
on the street
and ask them.
I wanted to stop the next random person
and say, hey
can I ask you a question.
They would think
I wanted some change
to buy a little more alcohol
but I don’t really drink
and they would say sure you don’t, buddy
and maybe hand me some coins anyway
or just walk on
without another word or turn of their head
convincing themselves that my homeless state
is my own fault
and it is
but I am not even homeless
Not the way they think.
I want to ask them,
the ones reverently typing into their phones,
excuse me but what exactly does LOL mean
because I don’t hear anything.
I wanted to ask someone
but everyone seems in such a hurry
procuring caffeine infused drinks
with names that are so long
that you couldn’t fit them on billboards
but they rattle them off
with a fine, practiced precision of the tongue
to Baristas in green aprons
wearing Verona smiles,
their eyes glinting from farther away than
the place which the precious coffee whence came
and I want to ask
if this is maybe their own illusion,
one that mimics conversation,
making the five-something they pay
so ******* worth it.
I wanted to ask someone
sitting at their desk
incessantly checking their on-line profiles
and commenting on comments
made in response to the comment
they left on the post of a picture
that has captured a small snapshot
of some life
while they pretend to be working on something else
so that they can pay the ever increasing price of access
because its important to stay connected
and I bet if I asked them to list
six things they could never live without
surely Facebook is what they would list
right after water, food and God
but they just seem too busy which
I think is their intent.
I wanted to ask someone
but everyone seemed so focused
on getting home
so they could embrace their loved ones
on the sofa
and hold each other close
while they memorize the reruns of
some reality TV show,
while they don’t talk to each other,
being so engrossed, and
I would ask them
if I were in their living rooms
while they strain to hold their heavy lidded eyes
high
shooting their television with their ray guns
chanelling their TV gods,
chanting,
there’s nothing on,
there’s nothing on,
there’s nothing on.
I wanted to ask someone,
anyone,
if that girl was right
when she told me that
I speak too passionately when expressing a point
and if it really is good
to nod in agreement
with the things people say
like a parrot
as opposed to posing an argument
because she professes to know that
beneath my façade of not caring
that I do care if they accept me or not and
I really do want to know
if she is right and
I wanted to ask someone
but instead I decided to just keep it to myself
because deep down I do know
she was as wrong as
I always was
and if there is one thing that I did learn from her
it is that
if you cant fit it
in the one-hundred and sixty character space
of a text message
no one really wants to hear it anyway
so instead of starting a random conversation
with a stranger
I spent the morning memorizing acronyms
so that I might communicate more effectively
with people farther away than my voice.
Michael L Sutter