Читать книгу Painstaker - Jeffrey Galbraith - Страница 11

To the pissed-off colleague

I look like the cat that ate the canary,

whereas the panhandler

outside Home Depot says

I look like Drew Carey,

so I ask him for my dollar back.

The same week a drive-thru

worker swears I look exactly

like that guy who plays for the Packers,

and I remember how years ago,

an older, hairier teen cornered me

after football practice to say

You know, you’re one ugly motherfucker.

But who can really say? At the airport,

the lead vocalist for an R&B group

mistook me for the singer

of another R&B group and O

how I wanted to take her backstage.

Even the cloudless sky is blue

with longing. I remember

one time a neighbor-farmer

thought out loud I might be funny,

so dad put me to work

with the hogs and I watched

from the trees as he called for me

through outbuildings and barn,

his anger on my name.

Built anxious, I feared legion

in the swine, spooked at the sound

of shades on the stair,

had not yet learned to thrill

in becoming stranger, more

distant from myself.