“I AM A BEAUIFUL MAN”

Seeing myself printed
as composed by a lens
of women who loved me
once,
I am a beautiful man.
I see, now, that they
thought so,
now
that it is too late;
even this early in
the day. I am alone,
typing, like a poet
who waits too long
to hear a voice other
than his own. I am
back lit by the coming
of a sun. It laughs.
I am soaked in all of
it, conflicted
and yellow.

narrative poem written on 06-24-2013 by: on mattkane.com
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