Do other people ever look at me and see poetry?
Some bystander on a corner
young or old
loner or lord
and wonder about my comings and goings?  
Have they created scenarios for me in their heads?
Mazes that the fictional me must traverse
Have they speculated on my love life?
"Oh, that man has been hurt. you can see it in the way he walks."
Do they listen to my order at the coffee shop?
They must think I lack imagination.
Plain coffee, plain clothes.
I hardly make a peacock of myself
Do they envision my morning routine?
He psyches himself up in the mirror first.
Today he asks that girl out.
This is the day his nephew becomes a man
Would I take the young lad to a ******* or a church?
How can you even tell someone's character?
Are there people who dress and act so they can't be read?
Are there people with magic eyes that cut through my disguise?
Are there people who want to save me, or be saved by me?
That guy would make a good protagonist in my novel.
How many layers of reality have I unwittingly dived down just by being observed?
Do people think about things like this?
Doesn't it get in the way of their lives?
Because I sure don't.
And it defintely doesn't.
Nope.
Absolutely not.
Never.
Notta once