i don’t like to work too hard on anything.
matchstick whose end burnt and miraculously
the wood stem kept an ember, at its last
quarter inch now.

i go by in phases and never stay too long.
two mirrors facing one another, refracting an
idea of themselves differently, more green
and forget the original.

i feel like i can’t stop seeing it all,
system of surveillance cameras in an
NYPD office, every camera and every
monitor, timestamped in the cloud.