I really dig that when I open up my blog reader
I find people-y readers lurking about, liking this or that.
I really dig that when I peer back through the shop window
the readers grunt, groan, lust, hug, love and hate like I do.
I really dig that when I peer through the looking glass
I don’t find my readers slumped sleeping in side-chairs.
I really dig that they poke fingers to keys while:
dancing with desires for origami people on paper they will print.
I really dig that the people I don’t know by face
stare back at me as we travel, passing on our reader’s train.
I really dig when we arrive at the same destination of personal truth.
Because that’s when the shit gets real.