i am not an outcast.
outsider, you might say-
i am making myself into a myth.
i am making myself into a ghost.
i am obscurity. i am distance.
noise is incidental to
interaction. and i'd rather be at peace.

i find nowhere to belong;
not because i am a force of consequence-
but because i am consequent of choice.

and so it will be that i fade deeply into the glares
and unmerited curiosity.
as i grope for the seclusion of my camoflauge,
i am in plain sight.
however, only i can see myself as invisible.

perched at the end of a long table,
where population at the far end is such a distance,
acoustic muses hum from a distant radio.
i may be stripped bare-
but for now, planted in the deepest recesses of my mind,
the chaos and warmth is a beautiful cataclysm.
for tonight,
i am a ghost.

08/03/2003

Author's Note: the sixth in my chicago saga.

Posted on 08/03/2003
Copyright © 2024 Andrew S Adams