critics

a negative review: i was walking to the ferry

rehearsing barely over breath, when a homeless

man jumped up off a wall in the plaza and slung a paper

cup of ice from some fast food joint across the bricks

to skid and spew cubes that glittered on the bricks.

he couldn't have heard a single word,

just saw my lips moving and assumed that of course

i was talking to him, like the rest of the universe does.

so he shouted: you want something bitch?

you talking behind my back, bitch? and i just

spread my arms palm up and downward, outward facing,

you know the gesture of: what did i do?

but that wasn't enough for him, so he kept on ranting at

my back as i waited at the crosswalk of the boulevard to cross

and wondered if he'd come up and stab me or push me

into the street in front of the cars and buses.

but he wandered off still cursing, and seeing enemies

if anyone seemed to look at him or mumbled poems

under their breath quietly. no staring eyes

or smiles covered behind hands.

here i am too, talking in public and there

is no partner, but of course there is.