Live alone, crowded

Come to a place of crowds, desperate for another
soul to match our wit, our excellent disposition -
to try to unmask rudeness on trains, they track our
every mood, cell us, face us, unwilling to let the
tracks stop for human error. If only they would see
as I do, can, cannot but let the public service, ads
for engaging all, but selected for thought,
superior, talented, unlike our banal existence,
sitting by other blue collars, still white,
in search of facing eyes.

I nearly eyed him, or her, matters not, but so many
stuffed into this space, as I walk to life, fixing things,
eating whatever may not be taken so others can
spy my trends for eating quickly, though careless
at meandering thoughts - they'll surely mug me
for my mental acuity - or lack of it, staring into
blankness, looking for hope in polished seats,
mentioned for wear hardiness, for dispelling rumors
of attacks in public, staring down for fear of knowing
each other.

It's a tack taken by many, exiting this station, that
to walk quickly, ignoring instinct for molasses, slowing
down life to one sentence, two, or even reading -
hold it up to crowds can gain from one's insight into
the worthless, or exciting, without giving a clue,
it tells of hard worn paper - owned by singularity -
how it got here, under arm, armed with cleverness,
looking or displays of genius, discard stares,
entry points to life, distain for the common,
looking for color in the mad dash.

© 2016 Larry Ingram