IMPOSTER STAR

 

700-02082067

People say I’m rising.

Every time they clap,

line up, ask me to write my name

I remember this plastic bag I saw blowing across the park

back in New York when you and I missed one another by a minute.

Remember?  I waited for you all day in a café

watching out a window

terrified you might pass and somehow

I wouldn’t see.

At night I think back, wonder if I jinxed us by being scared

or if I let the devil in when out of kindness

I turned to speak to that man

who wouldn’t leave me be.

I never saw you

just that red bag and

thought it was like me without you

beautiful to look at, ethereal even,

soaring, riding breezes, carefree,

but heading nowhere fast

or worse

somewhere

an iron gate

a gutter

a sharpened picket fence.

It was inflated

full of wind

full of everything that doesn’t matter

full of nothing.

I watched that hollow thing dance

until it was a red speck on the horizon

It could have been the morning star,

but I knew that it wasn’t.

It was a bit of trash

a jot of mundanity

an empty thing playing at being

spectacular.

 

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