I know that you've trained
your stereo sights
on a little threat
that might require
all those sleepless nights.

You know what they say
about living life
in the dual way
of enjoying now
once as you live it,
then again as strife.

The image frozen
as an afterthought
of mortal boredom,
punctuated lines
illuminated
by the hurried hands
your yellow flash caught.

By day you mask it
as an iron cross.
By night, before dawn,
those eyes stare in vain
at the idea, high,
half open, half closed,
half a gauche human
and half albatross.


jam16