Driving Home Narcissus
Seeing reed in water’s hieroglyph for question sprouting screen
Nibbling at the bare bones of it, I can tell some of this saliva’s
So it wouldn’t be fair to say you were doing nothing. No.
So I see. Clusters of tiny bubbles floating in your eye fluid,
And in that fatal moment your reflection in the windscreen’s an exit
Now you’re out of your shell, listen.
Alex Houen lives in Sheffield, UK, where he teaches English literature. He once won the Festival of Sydney Poetry Cup, but doesn’t like to talk about it.
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