Everywhere I look
I see me-
standing by the ocean
cross-legged on the porch
in empty churches
and full classrooms
enjoying loving embraces
being beat at pool.
always part of the picture
looking over my shoulder
from behind.


Tear-blind and shaky;
Walking around the room
Picking things up:

A picture.
A stuffed rabbit.
An unmatched argyle sock ---

Down the hall
Pver the bathroom sink
Floats a gaunt, distorted corpse.
Love is a deadly mirror
When the light


a London park bench
flanked by two suitcases
in November, in the rain
at three in the morning
with no money
is where I am

a prostitute rotates past
giving me wide berth-
am I really that imposing?

a hissing yellow flare erupts
between my palms, tickling
them with flickering heat
only 3 left, I think, and shake the box.

I feel a new kind of perception here:
lighting matches to warm your hands
makes the ego
run for its life.

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