Why should I look at him,
why should I look?
Mirrored monster,
inward eye.
I/not I
Fat man–
in my convoluting self,
a longed for indifference to my
difference,
yeasty with shame and secrets,
unloved and unlovable
gargantuan of difference
crouched in the comforting
nearness of the others–
I see you
The Lex 4 stops and as I rise
carried off with the crowd in its
fevered chaos of purposefulness
I glance at the fat man and hold him
with a sense of something like love.
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