Sunday February 5, 2017
Overheard at Quebec and west Broadway
I’ve been drawing daily self portraits
the mirror’s been lying again and
besides I want
to document my waxing and waning.
Yesterday I had a sun face
and my teeth were wide as open arms.
I don’t know anything about poetry
except that it feels like the only
I was never good at my time’s tables
always needed to count on my fingers
under my desk.
Today I’m a small black dot.