- 2020 Volume 15
There will come a time
Where you won’t recognize
Just what is standing in the mirror.
You will shriek, something of euphoria
Tainted horribly, like a dye job
From a cheap barber.
In that same moment, you are apart
Of the cosmos. Living and breathing,
Aurora Borealis. They all say all matter
Has consciousness. That undeniable
Impulse to screech right-ward and climb
Up the 5th avenue street light lamp post.
If I were there, I would walk the cobblestone
Steps with their swirling staircases
And clay forgotten faces. Of course,
They themselves are the only ones
Who could tell you how and why
Their kneecaps are fused to the rising tile.
My blood will transform into poison
From the tar, insomniac.
You have tired eyes, Child.
I’m starting to lose touch,
The concreteness of my world
Fading to animation.
Are you still with us, Child?
One day, I fear, I will be a stranger
To my own face. Yet, what shakes
Me to my core is the consideration
That one day, I will be a stranger
To yours as well.
Photo by Cate Christiansen