Small Talk

How am I, I look up
walk with your eyes
the mirror unfolds
some clandestine
disappointment, you
nudge me and grin
I tell you I’m fine

How am I, tiny
too small to see
under the gaze of
your flat screen TV
the car just delivered
the one in your drive
I tell you I’m fine

How am I; I’m actually
I’m; in point of fact
really I'm. You tell me
you feel that way too,
Worse, but you battled
through; a saint crucified
I tell you I’m fine

How am I; invisible
a torn grey sweater
a snapped washing line
You say more wine? Behind us
somebody slips in your smile
a basket of kryptonite
renders you blind.
I tell you I’m fine

How am I; You tell me
I insist you tell me
about your sixth-sense
we all of us struggle
about global-warming
you tell me, your own agony
this year Spain or perhaps
Italy. You touch me
you say 'you'll be fine'