Overlooker

Published in the Anthology of Poetry by Young Americans.

Overlooker, intent on watching our every move,

not the normal.

Someone new.

He tells us the game and expects us to play. 

They consume everything including the focus. 

The silence is full of noise.

Pull me left. Pull me right.

My head is gone today. 

Thinking about what I have planned.

He watched while I babble and hide under tables.

And then there is gray who remembers how many times we conversed,

maybe I'm not the only one, but I think that pretty special.

Overlooker watching our every move.

Gives us the rules, but we play a different game.