Sometimes,
Those people with the headsets,
The kind Uhura wore,
Will be talking in public
And you won’t see the shiny chrome,
Or the bright blue light,
Or the plastic metallic lump
On the side of their heads,
And the person will be looking right at you,
Directly into your eyes,
And will look like they are talking to you,
You alone.
They will say the strangest things,
“What are you doing?”
“What is wrong?”
“I can’t believe it!”
‘Hello? Hello!”
But they won’t be talking to you.
They’ll be talking to someone else
Far away,
With their own Uhura headset.
I’m just waiting
To be out and about,
Sitting at the bar,
Talking to a lady,
Nursing a drink,
Or whatever,
And see somebody
Looking right at me,
Smiling,
Looking directly into my eyes, and say
“What are you wearing?”
“Are you touching yourself?”
