I am convinced I have a double
Out there, in the blizzards of darkness,
The blossoming nights of May.
A more romantic twin
Courting the stars on their millennial journeys,
Robbing the gardens
Of their fairest rose.
And he is touched by a sweetness
I have only dreamed exists,
And he knows a sorrow
From deep, deep down.
He carries a hundred different crosses
On his muscular back.
He writes poems bird-like and pure.
And when I see in the mirror
My half-witted, bearded face
I understand I am the other one.
The angry attic-ridden brother
Eating sawdust in dimmed-down corners,
Monstrous and alone.