Hey Look Me Over

You don’t look at me,
and you don’t look at me,
and you don’t look at me,
And then you do.
And it’s like looking in the eyes of God,
because it is
Looking in the eyes of God
Before they dart away.

Outside a car is gunning an engine
which hits a peak intensity
of brazen cacophany
before fading mercifully away.
Though I’m not in
New York City it reminds me of
New York City
Where you are and

Where
Nobody remembers silence.
Or reveres silence
Or cares about your furtive eyes.

Except me.
Well, and your family,
The whole lot of them
And your friends,
A whole passel.
A crowd then.
Rambunctious, fevered, clamoring
And your co-workers
And maybe a stranger or two, too shy
or too proud to say:

Over here.
Add me to the mix.
Stir me in.

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