What Am I Doing Here
hadn’t planned to be –
sort of got told it was
expected of me; asked
in all innocence what it
meant of a vague face
allegedly taking interest
and found a lie, what do
you mean you don’t know?
Still dealing with that –
why is it that a scrutineer
morphs into guiltless
bystander the instant
you establish time and
place. Hey, who’s driving
this thing? If it isn’t you
and it isn’t me what am
I doing here?
© 27 May 2010, I. D. Carswell
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