The Dark Center of the Universe

Those in the know would have us believe that we all live in Cement Boxes
but you and I both can prove there is still space enough for alien intrusion.
There are windows open to the streets, we shoo Bats outside with brooms,
purses are sat on the floor in public restrooms,
surrounded by 8 feet of open space,
messages are passed on escalators, in elevators, parks, & bars.
Our night air is wolfish, buzzing potential.
Our days are plain shaded oppression.
I can see the way people look at me & still never know what it is they see.
I was out, the other day, walking the dog through the neighborhood
and an old lady, yelled at me, Do You Have A Bag With You?!
I do, without fail, so she complained for a bit about someone on the block
just leaving the shit laying there, I said, I’d keep an eye out,
but what kind of sentence is that?
Who greets people with accusation? Who the fuck do they think we are?