self-portrait [experiment in mirrors]

A man is sitting alone at this café;
take a moment to find him fulfilling the part in which he must eye passers;

so he is sipping on coffee and it is the best thing he’s got going
until his cigarettes run out but before he can light his last luck
he notices a small child, old enough to walk but not enough
to know where to go—he is standing on a curb across the street—

There is no hand attached to an adult
who would in turn be attached to
some form of self-preservation, no,
there is a child, an infantile
and the green man is nowhere here
when he steps into traffic,
swaying and a few times
stumbling in between
every single car—unable to grasp,
but somehow still courageous / oblivious,
he makes it all the way to our side
completely intact and walks off.

This moves not one person on this sidewalk.
We are confounded.  We are out-ranged.

But if you will look back
under the awning, the man is so much
more aware and more pleased
with the freakish that he’ll forget
to tip the bill and the waitress will refuse
to let him sign for it on her chest;
nothing could make more sense today.