Mirror images
Standing at a urinal
in a dreary restroom
at a gas station
by the side of the road
I catch my reflection in the
poorly lit, lesioned mirror
hanging on the wall
over my left shoulder.
Thinking this is not a place
to take stock,
this is not a place to gauge
how well I am holding up
against the rigors of time,
I still cannot resist
just a quick glance.
What I see in the mirror
horrifies me.
I appear diminished,
furrowed.
My skin seems thin,
ghastly.
I am used up,
an empty bag
of liquid soap.
Wait, it is the soap dispenser
on the opposite wall that I see.
The front panel is torn off
revealing
a vacuous plastic bag,
all wrinkled and warped.
Oh thank God!
What a relief.
It is the soap that is used up
not me.
With newfound optimism
and a bluff of confidence
I slowly lean back farther
until
there I am at last
my visage
captured and framed
in the unapologetic mirror.
And how do I look?
Well –
not so bad,
not so bad at all.
Nothing in this face shows
even the faintest clue
that I have just peed on my shoe.
5:57:22 PM  Poems
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