Library Portraits (III)

On the Execution of a Self-portrait

A blood-red mirror of rage

framed in a spectrum of skin-toned wood and canvas
pale of all—eyes and raiment or its lack

closed mouth
phantom stroke of dust
to show the shape of the shade

the dead man who carries my anger still
as a sign of pride
hair in a tufted scalp of hirpling mania
cabbage finely sliced

slightly furrowed—perfected ensign
of petty indifference, eyes—hollow

jaw riddled with angst, gaunt or taut by
pursed in a frown or
chewing the cud of misery

shoulders drooped
like fabric on a hanger

neck slender and mountainous
a volcano

dripping wrath

a celebration—a memory
a cautionary tale
paint on canvas framed withal
and hanged with a rusty nail