[ poetry - january 08 ]
There is this 'I' in it, right at the beginning,
an 'I' for an 'I' that is you. But of course, you are
your own inspector and spectator.
In the matters of the heart, there seems to be an agenda
for the ego to recognize the 'I' within
to be as distinct and different from the 'I' without.
Otherwise these could become confusing times running along
parallel lines, so the gap between the two is stretched as far as your legs
- just about
So you watch the man who guards the streets at night. Even when he stays
hidden at the turn of menace; only his flashlight shines on passing cars.
Only you can clearly see his camouflage. Like he's your alter ego.
Like the whole subterfuge is so good that you would never
guess it's really him, grinning there, in your upheld mirror.