They run away.
It has always
Been this way.
But now we know how
Other people
Are dangerous,
Unpredictable.
My closest prior brush
Was at the turnstiles
To the cagetop of the Empire State,
A line that stretched for miles;
Those faces were identical
To the teenage girls
I watched past midnight on my street
Practice twirls
As if they were alone
With no one to see them,
Each dancer adrift and alien,
In perfect synchronization.
