THE HAPPY FACE


Someone was sobbing in
the shelter of the road's
shoulder. I could almost

relate. Silk, the large world
roaming inside my head,
tears dissolving in that

dark before the lights spray
on. Optic reality.
Metal threads wrinkling on

Flat Creek. I said I would
bathe in such mirrored
instants, racked with something

utterly insoluble.
The crying man's distorted
face seemed calm, carefree.