Classical Jazz '05




I know they’re watching me

Behind cigarettes and cheap sunglasses

Watching with those halogen faded late night television eyes

Piercing amphetamine eyes

Eyes hidden but alert

But mostly I think about thought

What kinds of wheels turn behind those pairs of eyes?

Those cold and apathetic eyes

Big wheels small wheels fast wheels slow wheels

Wheels rusted and cracked

Some run fast and smooth, no doubt

Like a well oiled machine, taking it all in

Like nobody’s business

But not most,

Most just turn about, worn out

By too many years of day to day

And so I dodge their glances like bullets

Avoid their corrosive words like shrapnel

And machine-gun my eyes across the room

In hopes to keep the wolves at bay.


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Artist: Cory McConnell
School: North Allegheny
This is a somewhat autobiographical poem about feeling paranoid or anxious in a crowd.
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