Everyone Else

I did it 'cause the street was doing it.

The street was doing it 'cause the town.

The town had heard the city was —

the city never checked.

And when it all went wrong at once,

we all said the same eight words,

in the same flat voice, together:

"I was only doing what everyone else..."

A million people, single file,

each one watching the next one's back —

Everyone else, everyone else —

oldest alibi there is.

A queue a million shoulders long

and nobody's in front.

Look hard. Look long.

Nobody's in front.

It's warm mid-queue, I'll grant you.

Decisions come pre-made.

Your feet just do the standing,

the direction's someone's else's —

whose, though? Trace it up the line.

Passed hand to hand like rumor,

from nobody, to nobody,

since before the queue had names.

A million people, single file,

each one watching the next one's back —

Everyone else, everyone else —

it spends like a reason, but it's rent.

A queue a million mornings long

and nobody's in front.

Ask out loud. Ask up the line.

Nobody's in front.

So I stepped out. One step. Sideways.

Heart going like a hammer,

certain of the laughter —

and the strangest thing occurred.

Everyone else, everyone else —

I stepped out of the line just once,

and half the queue turned round and breathed

like they'd been waiting years

for anyone to go first.

Anyone at all.

So: anyone.

You.

Aaah — aaah —