Traffic in the Grasshoppers

Rub against your frictions
And sing with the humming,
Dragging your beat a touch.

They don’t want you to see
Them. Their business isn’t
Meant to be yours, singer.

You work to notice them.
You think you’re serving them
By caring about them.

They don’t want you to care,
Unless your caring’s got
Something in it for them.

Any other kind’s just
Kind of taking from them
To put them in your song.

You could just listen, then,
Lie down to feel them beat
Themselves to them for them.