Monday, August 11, 2014


I walk against the Monday morning swarm
   Of men in suits and ties, women in heels;
Because I’m not dressed in their uniform,
   None of them look at me.  This blindness feels
Both liberating and insulting, like
   There’s a great sea of cars, all thinking: “Hey!
Who is that idiot riding the bike?
   And even worse—he’s going the wrong way!”
Ah, worker ants—they go nuts when they see
   A loner, or hear a dissenting word.
The badge of individuality
   Is only worn by members of the herd.
      My badge says outcast—and I have to say
      I wouldn’t have it any other way.


Copyright 2014 Matthew J Wells


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