Silent Scapegoat

  As I walk I feel my invisibility --
Canine whirls stumble clean shoes
  and humans cleanly over pile forcefields --
I stumble on in, sucking them upwards
  through veins to my brain and beyond --
Excreted from my pores, pigmented out.

You avoid me, generational distrust
scans me out, larger-than-dog-pile
trickier in my perambulation, not impossible.

I leave no trail, no odour, no mark
on the imagination.  I am perfectly aware
as I soil your public toilet, leaving
flakes of skin in the bowl, shit on the rim --
publicly speaking, I am you silent chagrin.