Saw him out there
on the front lawn,
hanging from the telephone line
upside down,
across the street
in the neighbor’s window
staring right at me
with a grin.
Saw him in the spent
needle on the pavement
under the bridge on 66th Ave,
in the eyes of the woman
who robbed my friends
in broad daylight,
without conviction,
counting victories.
Saw him running laps
backwards on the track
with kids after school,
in the park
blowing bubbles,
dancing to music
in the nightclub
without missing a beat.
Saw him in the bottom
of a bottle,
between the perfect teeth
of the politician,
posing on the billboard
handling an infant,
saw him taking a drag
out front the 7-Eleven.
Saw him in the plain.
—N.A.
Mouth Thorn 