As I Was Walking Down the Street

As I Was Walking Down the Street by Kenn Nesbitt

As I was walking down the street
there was a man I didn’t meet
because he wasn’t there to see
and so, he didn’t notice me.

If he were there, I might have said,
“Your hat goes nicely with your head,”
then smiled and went upon my way,
except he wasn’t there that day.

In fact, he wasn’t there before
or afterward, and nevermore
shall I espy that man I missed
because that man does not exist.

That’s why I never said, “Hello,”
or shook his hand or watched him go.
I’m pretty sure he didn’t care
because I also wasn’t there.