Contributor: JD DeHart

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I flatten myself
in a representation. This is
not me.

It’s just photo paper. It’s
just a bit of life contained
in a glimpse of an image.

What bit that is we shall
never know. I ain’t telling.

I can scratch the surface, no
sore marks are made. Just
the fabric of a canvas, dinged
up a bit.

My real face doesn’t flap
like the cardstock print. It doesn’t
float away in the wind.

I’m much more complicated
than that. Maybe.


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My new book of poems, A Five-Year Journey, is available from Dreaming Big Publications.