You Need To Be Like Me
– by Ron Taylor
Hey! What you looking at, man?
I see you sitting there like some prehistoric sphinx
All propped up and stiff as a week old corpse.
Arms crossed over your chest like breastworks of armored iron.
Are you trying to keep the world at bay?
How’s that working for you?
The expression on your face reminds me of an old WPA concrete bridge pylon – re-bar reinforced for
rigidity. No give. No take. No nothing.
A regular Bubba B. Bad of better not bother me, boy.
And just look at those eyes – almost blank as bullet holes.
They remind me of the impersonal instant-hot of a pair of lasers.
Are you scanning for germs and microbes down on the floor?
Or is this some kind of X-ray vision looking for germs and microbes
on a floor somewhere down in China – through the Earth’s molten core.
What the hell are you looking at, man?
Here you sit among all this living, throbbing male humanity
Avoiding anything that might possibly signal who and what you are.
No eye contact – almost no contact of any kind. Stuck on auto-pilot.
Your best defense – a cold, hard nobody home. “Go away,”
As you peek out from behind the curtains.
But you’re doing it all wrong, man.I’ve got to tell you.
You’re staring blankly at the wrong spot.
See – what you’re looking for is really over here –
Right in the spot I’ve been fearfully staring at for the last 25 minutes.
by Ron Taylor
April 26, 2014