Routine Reflection

How many ways is this mirror
when I see myself in the world outside the window

general, specific detailed map 
legibility victim: how many, thus,

a street unfolds on a former forest
making life easier, stow the unrest

fading memory loses the past
rhythmic story cruises to glass

as a continuity there is much 
to be desired while the front

and rear go unsired and 
fall into a gap of which we were 

warned, undone lines 
connecting and whirling

where the future looms tiny
as terrifying as an insect.

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