Backstage.

There is a film on t.v.
With spacemen – pop stars, fashionists.

I am invisible.

Can’t be served.

Can’t be insulted.

Can’t be heard.

Can’t be customized.

I am the waiter.
I serve.
They don’t see the man.
They see the menu.
It makes them mean.
I look out of the window.
I drink some tea.
Nobody sees me.
Now I leave the bar.
Then I’m watching myself in a film on tv,
I am a spaceman, pop star, fashionist.
Floating in a sea of positrons.

Like a little crouton.