Why Wouldn’t You Want Readers?

Well you would, if you could pick them,
Hand-select them from the masses,

And, shamefully, not for the best,
Most insightful, elite readers,

Just for those most likely to like
Whatever this is that you do.

Are you really that thin-skinned? Yes.
Maybe. You’d love community,

To share your own minority
Nature of your preferences.

You have the feeling you exist
In more than one iteration,

That there, are have been, and will be
Always small numbers of readers

With interests and preferences
Largely overlapping with yours,

And something under your ribs warms
At the thought of being welcomed

As a writer for your people,
If only your people could be

Located, assembled, distilled
Out of the vast demographics

Of a world unlikely to like
Whatever this is that you do.