Thursday

Nonlinear Runaway Spasms of Extreme Moments

On foot from here to there it happens
Incidental glimpse of your very own reflection
In the full-length window of some office or shop

You identify the image instantaneously as familiar
Instants before recognizing that it is in fact you
And you consider, “Oh, that’s what I look like”

But in that moment
It all solidifies
Yes that is you – for all the world

Too tall, too plump, too squat, too lean
Frowning with ill-matched garments
Goofy looking motherfucker indeed

Nearly agonizingly mortifying awareness
Yes that is you – for the entire world
No one to weigh against and context absent

No longer seventeen and perpetual
You ache in places that
Used to cooperate

And you speculate
How can one endure
All of this -- with equanimity