people crowded
buses running this way and that
barely missing each other
in passing
city streets
women with burqas
hasidics with curly sideburns
cyclists wearing helmets
people with eyes
not seeing
ears not hearing
for the din is beyond capacity
and a boy
loving his mamma
she talking to a friend
while he grasps her arm
lays his head on
her shoulder, stroking
her hair, tugging on her
sleeves
he grunts loudly
stomping his feet
mama! mama!
people turn
the invisibility of the crowds
the mass cut down to one
his body too large
for his behavior
people look
trying not to be noticed
as the boy yells words
that aren’t words
demanding the attention
his mother withholds
and instinctively we turn
our faces away
embarrassed, we say
for her and the spectacle
her son makes
but she visits with a friend
unruffled by his demands
unperturbed by his outbursts
a day in her life
and we all just fold
into the anonymity of
the masses
trying not to see
pretending not
to hear
