Poetry: Invisible

I am strolling through the mall
looking at expensive shoes
   and laughing

No one can see me
when I wear the right shirt
smiling at the right times

Appreciate the sublime beauty
        of another sale
Praise the wise purchase
   of the next obsession

I am invisible
                    and nameless

I am the hunter
rubbing himself down with deer piss
at 3 in the morning

I look out at all the other white people
chattering into cell phones and shopping
wondering if there's an ugly truth
brewing below the waves
of shiny plastic wrapping
and gigantic cinnamon buns

every one of them is pretending
and they're all miserable
underneath the credit cards and televisions

I think they are
 I think we are
  I think I am

I will

 start a new religion
 and take confessions in the public square

  worship no gods, no idols, no teachings
  nothing, no thing

   listen for the sound of a heart screaming out
   and while the tears roll down my chest

    let them know how each of us is dying inside
    and there is beauty in that:

When we share it with each other.