People moves

They move through my space
use it like a transit lounge
never pause to notice or ask
never take my words to task
they look through my face
making polite inane sounds

They sit or stand like cattle
behaving for the milking shed
never see the depths are there
never notice that I might care
In a white noise prattle
as the host sees them fed

They don't look back as they go
just move tidal and bored
like a flock on the wing
like clowns in a ring
they dress minds for the show
and the audience is ignored

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