All the Letters I Send Myself Come Back Stamped "Person Unknown"

ALL THE LETTERS I SEND MYSELF
COME BACK STAMPED “PERSON UNKNOWN”

I have heard that saints are shining
in the orbit around Orion,
but what else are these saints doing
besides shining,

Using their light to guide cargo ships
of slaves or opium.
Do these shining saints ever read Hegel.
or listen to the squeaks of grocery carts
in grocery stores.
Or on Halloween give peppermints to children.
Do these shining saints ever fall in love,
or has their becoming light removed gender.

I don’t think I would like to become
a dead saint, shine on filth,
give transitory splendor,
join the moon’s light in creating lunatics,
have my secret life in caves made public.

But what other choices do I have? To see
You with the white-gold hair shopping
on the avenue.
I walk by you, magnetized by how your hips
undulated into your waist, and know
Aa I walk by and stare, I walk by
unrecognized.
She always makes me feel as if I were
invisible and an unknown person.
Once, I hired a detective to find me,
and he failed.
I got a fifty-percent refund on the bill.


Duane Locke

Posted over on Plum Ruby Review