I remember looking into the mirror,

Gazing at giant black-brown eyes

With little flecks on them.

My button nose came in the way as I leaned in

And misted over all details.

 

Without these fragile pieces of glass I wear everyday,

I am but a blurred man

In the mirror

And without;

And this time, pain comes in the way as I lean in

And mists over all detail

 

All those years I chose Paladins over Barbarians

Because of course life couldn’t be so banal

As to let the biggest guy win

Forgetting that after all,

Speed is another kind of strength…

 

As the rain lashes on and on

I think of the trees that wave and bend and return

Watching me with Ent eyes

Misted over with pain and bitterness.

I think of men who dream of tying men down for a year

Immobile and strapped,

So that they atrophy alive

And then make films of such violence.

I think of men who say they don’t want to go home

To their daughters in defeat,

Paying little heed to the memory of the faces

Of all those they had destroyed

 

I think of the man,

Who didn’t pray everyday

And I see him getting into the truck

And I hear him hear the sound of the bone and flesh crushed as he rammed

Into them in Nice

 

I try and focus on the green,

On the rustle

On the cadence of the rain,

On the breeze…

But I am but a blurred man

In the mirror

And without.