Back of an Envelope

"What people are worth meeting?"
you ask me,
I think of all the individuals that have
flashed through my life
sometimes barely touching my awareness
the ratio between those that matter
and those that don't matter at all
is extreme
you're young, and,
I think are one of those people
who talk to strangers
like they're your neighbors
already you could fill a book
with interesting chance encounters
I think of how everyone looks uniform
and predictable, to me
then I look at your shining eyes

I do a cruel thing next
cruel for both of us
I change the subject





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