I am an image of an old man with his dogs running around his feet
He lives in the woods, away from “Breaking News;”
He hates television, he hates the news, he loves his companions, he wants nothing else.
I am an image of a man and his lover
His broad shoulders, the small of his back, the birth mark
on his chest, right above the nipple–his eyes, his smile, his laughter
echoing until three in the morning–the softness of it, the balance,
and my knees weakening in his presence.
I am an image of a boy in his fortress, his castle with a moat
freshly installed with four new crocodiles shipped from Africa
-and a Hippo!
I dare you, you neighborhood intruders, siege my castle and meet
your peril, for
I am the Captain of
the pirate ship.
Pan! I’m coming for you and your boys; but later for,
I am terrified of the monsters in my closet, but
everyone needs a home. Mother comes in to quiet them down.
I am an image of a newborn babe,
everything is new and the floor is always cold.
I am a man, in a bed, with his family around him.
There he is, and my son, and my daughters
And there is my love, coming again to take me away with him.