what kind of monster am i?

poetry

all the times i’ve cleaned
this mirror still the monster
is there vomiting his orphan
words
crying
as am i
this has got to go away
like cell phone rings that
never rang or waking up from
dreams mid-drive
leaving
town
trying to become an ant by
pill or smoke or shrinking
machine
i could lift my own weight
and many times more
not be such a monster
with a hunched back under
the weight of all the
miles i can’t ever reach
or with eyes
so large
making
the
villigers flee
seeing them run away
for minutes, and understanding
why
what kind
of monster am i?

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