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alone with the crowd
i watch from behind a plastic tree
with this pen and lines
seating next to me, an age-old man
not the type with ancient white beard
but a typical china man
so i think: what is he thinking?
he, a full man with his life behind him
while me, the life ahead as uncertain as fear
then he pushes his weight up with two bare hands
from the chair
as if he can sense my frivolous deep thoughts
leaving me

back to being busy writing this piece
i notice two watchful eyes
right at the corner of my cornea
so i tilted my head and caught two eyeballs
attached to the head of a little one
the head and the eyeballs, fixed
at the direction of my pen
i start to panic, i scribble bad handwriting
hoping it will conceal my thoughts
so deep and unsuitable for an 8 year old
but those eyes, they are still transfixed
on this meaningless piece
those eyes have seen demons--

mine

estherg



mine